


And Then It All Goes Boom

by orochiis



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, letter writing, no beta we die like Glenn, side mercedes/sylvain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:48:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 75,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23951821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orochiis/pseuds/orochiis
Summary: They're at the Officer's Academy for wildly different reasons, and yet Felix and Annette find themselves drawn to each other.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 98
Kudos: 149





	1. Great Tree Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This has probably been done a million times but I wanted to write these two SO BAD!!!! I haven't written a fic that will be this long in a while so bear with me- I've got a few chapters written already so hopefully I won't fall too far behind.
> 
> I'm doing it chapter about with perspectives- this first chapter is Felix, and chapter 2 will be Annette and so on!
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

Garreg Mach monastery was not the highest place on Felix’s list of places he wants to be, and yet he finds himself standing outside the gates with a majority of his possessions. The carriage sent from Fraldarius lands leaves him there, and with a sigh, Felix picks up his cases and makes his way inside. He’s never been here before, and yet there’s a certain familiarity to the air here- probably related to his long-held family tradition of studying here, as his father likes to remind him.

In the entrance hall stands a woman with a long scroll of parchment, almost asleep by the looks of her posture. When Felix clears his throat, she snaps to attention, and smiles at him. She looks friendly, at least, but he can’t imagine from the way she’s dressed that he’ll be learning anything about swords from her (and being honest, that’s the main reason he’s here, family duty be damned.)

“Welcome to the Officer’s Academy!” She greets, practically singing each word. “My name is Professor Manuela Casagranda. May I have your name for the register?”  
  
“Felix,” he answers quickly, before realising that’s probably too vague. “Uh, Felix Hugo Fraldarius.”

“Ah!” She says, looking up from her parchment and taking in his face. Felix knows what’s coming next- _you look just like your brother­._ The words don’t leave her mouth, even if she was thinking them, and Felix is eternally grateful. “Blue Lions house! Well, I hope you can get settled in. If you want to wait over there, another of my colleagues is taking students to the dorms in groups. He should be back any moment!”

With a nod, Felix wanders in the direction of the other students. Some of them already seem to know each other, and are chatting away amicably. None of the people he knows are here, at least not in the hall, but it isn’t long before someone tries to befriend him.

“Hey!” She greets, twirling a length of pink hair around her finger. “I’m Hilda. What’s your name?”  
  
“Felix.”  
  
“Ooh, a name from Faerghus? Why, that must mean you’re in the Blue Lions. A shame… I thought we could be friends.” Hilda seems to deflate a little, but Felix keeps his eyes narrowed- he knows she’s up to something, but he’s not sure what.

“There’s no point in trying to flirt with him,” a familiar voice calls from behind him. “He’s only interested in swordplay.”  
  
“Ingrid,” Felix greets. Out of the three people he knows (four, if you count that he’s aware Dedue is coming here too), Ingrid is the best of them, because she doesn’t annoy him immediately upon sight.

“We could see your carriage ahead, but the driver wouldn’t speed up to catch up with you. Glad you made it in one piece.”

“Are you guys nobles?” Hilda interrupts. “I heard from my brother that we get better rooms.”  
  
“That’s dumb,” Felix responds, before he can even think about it. “What’s that got to do with anything?”  
  
“Well, you know. The commoners get the rooms on the ground floor. Us nobles get better rooms upstairs.”  
  
“I still don’t get why.”  
  
“Whatever. I doesn’t matter to me, as long as I’m beside someone nice. I don’t think I know all the Alliance nobles, actually.”

“I heard that the Alliance’s heir is here this year as well as Dimitri,” Ingrid says. “I didn’t even know of an heir until recently.”  
  
“No one did. And apparently the crown princess of the Empire is here too,” Hilda explains. “No one I’ve talked to yet knows her but-“  
  
“Attention students!” A man’s voice calls, and all heads turn in his direction.

“Apparently she’s really scary,” Hilda whispers, before she too starts paying attention.

“My name is Seteth. I am the second in command here at the Officer’s Academy, and today I will be showing you around the monastery. First of all, we will stop by the dorms, and then you will be taken to the Reception Hall, where you may relax before the rest of the students get here. If you will follow me please.”

With that Seteth turns, and the seven students present scramble to lift their belongings. Hilda seems unwilling to carry her own things, and ends up passing them off to the others, lifting only the lightest of cases herself. Felix rolls his eyes at the sight- she is certainly going to be one to watch out for.

Seteth marches at an almost unrelenting pace, and they end up at the dorms in no time. He stops sharply, and turns back to survey the students and their varying states of breathlessness.

“Well, it looks like you have some training to do,” he says pointedly to the few that were out of breath- two shorter girls, and Felix bets that if she had carried her own cases, Hilda would be too. “To save on the number of trips we all have to make, you will wait here while I escort you in groups to your dorms.”  
  
It seems like a complicated method, but Seteth leads two students away- Raphael, a man who seems to be double Felix’s size in all directions, and Dorothea, a girl who seems keen to flirt with Seteth, making Ingrid grumble beside Felix, incoherent words that he doesn’t care to understand. When Seteth returns, he addresses the two girls from earlier, who have caught their breath after powerwalking here.

“You must be… Miss Ordelia, and Miss Dominic, correct?”

“Dominic?” Felix asks, muttering to Ingrid under his breath. “I thought their daughter was at the School of Sorcery?”  
  
“I heard from father that she graduated early, top of her class. I guess that’s why she’s here, then.”  
  
“Hm. Have you ever met her?”  
  
“No. They’re… weirdly protective, that family. She’ll be in our class, so I hope she’s not like the rest of her family.”

They’ve disappeared from sight by the time Felix starts paying attention again, leaving him with Ingrid and one other boy, who he immediately does not wish to talk to under any circumstances. The other man looks over slowly, glances past Felix and puts his attention straight to Ingrid.

“Lorenz Hellman Gloucester.” He extends a hand, and gingerly, Ingrid takes it. “And you are…”  
  
“Ingrid Brandl Galatea.” She’s talking through gritted teeth, and Felix has to suppress a snort. If there’s one thing he knows about Ingrid, it’s her huge distaste for men flirting with her.

“Oh, from the Kingdom. Wonderful. You meet so many people here! I don’t suppose you are either the Crown Prince or the Alliance’s heir?” Lorenz says to Felix, though he looks like he would rather the answer be no.

“Not that I’m aware of.”  
  
“Oh my, what humour. I hope we can all get along, even if we’re in different houses. That is what the Officer’s Academy is for, after all!”  
  
Felix is about to retort that that is _not_ what they’re here for- they’re to become soldiers, and makes allies within countries, and that is all. But Seteth returns, sparing him from more conversation with perhaps the most pretentious man he’s ever set eyes upon. They are led up the stairs, to a long corridor with many rooms off it. Ingrid’s assigned dorm is the first room, and it’s a long walk along the corridor before Lorenz disappears. Felix’s room is third from the end.

It’s not a large room, but there isn’t anything to complain about. There’s a bed and a desk and a wardrobe, as well as a long shelf along the length of the room, presumably to store books and the like on. He leaves his bags and his swords (though he keeps one strapped to his belt), and leaves to meet up with the others.

Seteth leads them to the Reception Hall at the same brisk pace, and swiftly returns to the Entrance Hall where he picked them up, presumably to collect the next batch of students. Felix takes a seat at an empty table, and waits for Ingrid to join him, but she doesn’t, waving with an apologetic smile as she goes to speak to the girl from House Dominic, who sits at a table across the way chatting amicably to another girl.

If this was going to be how it was, Felix wasn’t sure that he’d make it through the year.

* * *

On the first Monday of the school year, Felix finds himself sitting in the Blue Lions classroom beside Sylvain. To put it more accurately, Sylvain sat beside him, but either way, it looked like Felix was going to be stuck with the man for the remainder of the year. The weekend passed without incident- a tour of the monastery, a compulsory church service, and plenty of free time to supposedly get acquainted with his fellow students and find his way around the monastery. Felix spent most of that time in his room or the training grounds, when there wasn’t too many people around to watch him.

The classroom is big, though the class only fills the front two rows of desks, keaving Felix to wonder why on earth they made the classrooms so big. Dimitri sits with Dedue, and Ingrid with an archer named Ashe, who she seems to be getting along with well. The other two girls Felix spotted on the first day, Annette and Mercedes, sit at a fourth desk, making the most noise out of everyone in the room, chatting loudly about magic.

The professor is late, Felix notes. He had been introduced to Professor Hanneman on the first day, as well as knowing that Professor Manuela would be taking one of the classes. There was talk of a third teacher, but she hadn’t arrived at the monastery yet. Felix had to wonder if she was anything like Professor Manuela, and if maybe he should just not turn up to classes at all.

The doors at the back of the classroom swing open, and in walks Seteth, his chest puffed out with his usual air of authority. Behind him trails a girl who couldn’t be much older than Sylvain, the vaguest expression on her face. They stop at the front of the classroom, and Felix realises that this is the famous mercenary everyone was talking about at the weekend. The Ashen Demon, they called her, a mercenary with a surprisingly high number of kills for someone so young.

“Welcome, Blue Lions, to your first day of classes at the Officer’s Academy. This year, your class will be taught by Professor Byleth. This is her first year at the monastery, so please… do not go too hard on her. Make her feel at home.” With that, Seteth disappears, leaving confusion in his wake.

Byleth looks uncomfortable as she sets up at the front of the classroom, arranging her desk with a pile of papers, and locating chalk for the board. She rounds the table and writes her name on the board, and takes a step back to survey her class.

“Good morning,” she greets eventually, her voice quiet, matching her stature and aura almost perfectly. “My name is Byleth, and I will be your teacher this year. I hope that… we will get along well, and I will be able to help you with any issues that may arise over the academic year.” It’s a practiced speech, clearly, and she looks like she relaxed by the time she finishes her spiel.

“It’s nice to have you with us, Professor,” Dimitri greets, and Felix reflexively rolls his eyes.

“Thank you. Now, I didn’t get a chance to speak to you all at the weekend, and I’m sure you all don’t know each other either. So, can you all get up and introduce yourselves? Tell everyone your name, and what weapons you use. This will help my own records too.” Byleth sits down at her desk, and motions for Dedue to get up.

“Hello everyone,” he begins, and pauses for a moment. “I… my name is Dedue. For those who do not already know me, I hail from Duscur, and am Prince Dimitri’s retainer. My primary weapon is an axe.”

He hastily sits down, and Felix doesn’t blame him. His own feelings towards those from Duscur were mixed, and he knows that Ingrid wasn’t particularly fond of them either. The professor doesn’t seem to care though, and stares blankly at her page until Dimitri gets up.  
  
“Greetings! I am your house leader, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. I wield a lance. I am very much excited for the year ahead!”

“Yo, I’m Sylvain. I usually use a lance too. In more ways than one, am I right, ladies?”

“Sylvain!” Ingrid chastises, moving to the front herself, completely bypassing Felix’s turn. Felix can’t even be angry with her- if she didn’t shut Sylvain up, he’d do it himself. “My name is Ingrid, from House Galatea. Like these two, I also use a lance, but my goal is to be a Pegasus Knight!” There’s a quiet ooh as she sits down- an answer that was different was always welcome.

“My name is Ashe. I’m… not a noble, like you all, but… I hope we can still get along well. Oh, I’m an archer, too.” Byleth motions for Felix to get up next, realising that he had been forgotten. Begrudgingly, he gets to his feet, and turns to face the rest of the classroom.

“I’m Felix. I use a sword.”

He sits down, and is quickly replaced by who he assumes is the oldest student in the class.

“My name is Mercedes, it’s so wonderful to meet all of you! I am a magic user, primarily specialising in Faith magic. I… I have lived in the Kingdom for most of my life, however I was born in the Empire.” She looks a little embarrassed at that fact, and takes her seat as the last member of the class gets up. Felix vaguely recalls Ingrid’s comment about House Dominic being weird, and braces himself for Annette to be just as bad as he’s heard about her house.

“H-Hi!” She begins, almost tripping over as she bumps into Byleth’s desk. “I’m Annette Dominic. Um… like Mercie I’m a magic user, but I specialise in Reason magic! I hope we can all be friends!”  
  
She seems… normal, Felix thinks, if a little peppy. Nothing like the tales he’s heard of how protective House Dominic is of their lands and heirs. She practically skips back to her seat, and Felix wonders where on earth Ingrid got that idea from.

“Right… well, there’s a good balance of weapons in this class, even if it’s a bit heavy on lances… aside from that, I think we can all learn some new skills over the year, ones that will help us further on the battlefield, Goddess forbid any of you have to step foot on it. However, during your time here, there will be two mock battles, one of which will take place at the end of the month.

“I will pick four of you to join me on the field, and you will fight against the Golden Deer and Black Eagles houses and their Professors. I will pick based on the best spread of weapons, rather than who is the most technically competent. Here is a class schedule for the month.”  
  
Byleth hands out sheets of paper, haphazardly scrawled in what Felix assumes must be her handwriting. There are classes Monday to Friday as well as reviews every Saturday, ranging over a wide range of subjects. Tactics lessons, magic classes, seminars on authority and lances, swords practice sessions. Aside from swords lessons, who he notes aren’t taken by Byleth, there isn’t much that Felix finds he cares about. Regardless, he folds his timetable up and stashes it in his pocket.

“For now… class is dismissed. We’ll resume after lunch with tactics. Um… thanks.”

* * *

Felix quickly falls into a routine. Up early, a run around the academy’s grounds (long before Seteth is awake to yell at him for running), breakfast, and an hour of training before class begins. The he sits through a full day of class, has dinner, and if he manages to finish any work the professor sets before nightfall, he’ll fit in another hour of training before bed.

It works well. He can feel himself getting fitter, stronger, even within the first month. He didn’t have as much time to train at home as he would have liked, but the freedom he gets here, even with mandatory lessons and seminars and church services, gives him the ability to make his schedule work for him.

Professor Byleth seeks him out one night, when classes have finished for the weekend and he’s free to train for the rest of the day. The training grounds are empty, aside from Professor Jeritza, who observes Felix’s form with a watchful eye, very occasionally making a passing comment on his form. When Byleth enters, she nods to the weapons instructor, who swiftly makes an exit.

“What?” Felix asks, dropping his sword to his side, allowing himself a moment to catch his breath.

“I’d like to see what you can do. I’ve been checking up on all my students this week, so I can pick well for the mock battle at the end of next week. Care to spar?”

“I will admit I’m interested in how good you are. I don’t think any of the students are a worthy opponent for me, but as a former mercenary…”

“Don’t get caught up in who is better. Someone like Ashe could easily defeat you at long range, never mind any of the students in other classes.”  
  
She lifts a wooden training sword from the side of the hall and assumes a defensive stance opposite him. Clearly, she’s waiting for him to strike first, so he does so, moving towards her, waiting for an opening, and when she doesn’t give him one, trying to break through her defences with brute force. She’s faster than him, though, and side stepped his attack as if it was nothing.

Felix stumbles past her, and quickly regains his stance, eyes focussed only on landing a hit on his teacher. Jeritza wasn’t like this- he was faster, more aggressive, always on the offensive. Byleth is calmer, more calculating, and he can tell that even before she’s made a proper move. He dashes towards her again, opting this time for a lower strike, but she parries with a simple flick of her wrist.

He moves faster, a flurry of movements, lunges and parries and ripostes until he finds himself on his knees after Byleth hits him, her training sword by his neck.

“I yield,” he murmurs, and begrudgingly takes her hand when she offers to help him up.

“You are good. Well done.”

“Hm. I could’ve been better,” he complains, adjusting the tie around his hair.

“Yes,” Byleth concedes, “you could have been. But you were fighting an unfamiliar opponent, with no time to prepare, so I think you did a decent job.”  
  
“Thanks, I guess. I didn’t land a single blow, though.”  
  
“Not necessarily a bad thing. You’ve only been here two weeks, so give yourself time to improve. Change won’t come immediately.”  
  
Felix waits to tidy up until after she’s gone, her words ringing in his ears. He was so sure that he’d done a good job, that he had managed to make notable changes within his own routine that had helped him improve. But as she said, it had only been two weeks- there was still plenty of time to change before he was to graduate.

* * *

The Blue Lions assemble in the Reception Hall, huddled around two of the tables. It is the day of the mock battle, and everyone is on tenterhooks waiting to hear if their name will be called by the professor. She’s not here yet- running late, presumably. When she does appear, she’s brandishing two swords, and has an armful of maps.

“Good morning,” she offers, a little out of breath. “I hope you’re all well. Before I begin, is anyone injured or unwell?” Eight heads shake, and Byleth sighs in relief. “Great!”

She spreads the maps out on the table, standing at the head so all her students can have a good look at the map. She has written in five units for each house, colour coded accordingly.

“Some of you will be disappointed by my choices, and I understand that. Please be respectful of those who have been chosen- as I said at the start of the month, the choices are based on those of you who have the most diverse skills, as that is what will give us the advantage in battle.

“Without further ado… I will obviously be participating, as will Dimitri, as house leader. These two decisions were made by the faculty as a whole. My three other choices are Mercedes, Dedue, and Annette. Girls, please ensure that you bring weapons as well- I don’t want anyone getting stuck if they run out of magic, okay?”  
  
Felix rolls his eyes- of course he wasn’t chosen. The professor is a more talented swords user than himself, and he can understand why he wasn’t chosen. It still stings though, especially when he sees his classmates cheering.

“The other four of you,“ Byleth says, turning to address Sylvain, Ashe, Ingrid, and Felix, “will come to the battlefield anyway, and will watch the battle from a vantage point with the students from the other classes, chaperoned by Seteth. Take notes- I am expecting a report by all members of the class for Monday. Does everyone understand?”  
  
There is a chorus of ‘yes professor’ as the woman roll her scrolls up again, tidying them up and handing them to an overeager Dimitri. The four chosen pupils follow her out of the Reception Hall, leaving Felix with Ingrid, Ashe, and Sylvain, who look as deflated as he feels.

“I guess they can’t have three lance users,” Ingrid says eventually, watching over Sylvain’s shoulder as the Golden Deer filter through the room, lead by Claude and an over enthusiastic Hilda.

“Tactically, her decisions are sound,” Felix agrees.

“You hate tactics. Why do you think that, then?”  
  
“The professor is the most experienced, and better with a sword than I am, and loathe as I am to admit it, the boar’s freakish strength is unmatched by either of you. So there’s two out of five choices gone. It would be stupid to go without Mercedes- she’s a healer, and the only one we have.”

“You really have thought about this,” Sylvain interrupts. “Preparing for not getting picked ahead of time?”  
  
“Shut up, Sylvain.”

“I don’t think the Professor likes me,” Ashe mumbles, in probably the first thing he’s said around Felix so far.

“No way!” Ingrid is quick to comfort.

“She told me that you could probably kill me,” Felix paraphrases. “From a distance, I can’t use a sword, but your bow could take anyone out.”

“Dedue was chosen because he has high defence with all that armour the professor makes him wear,” Sylvain explains, mostly for Ashe’s benefit. “He’ll be on the front line against people like Claude and Hilda, as well as Edelgard. And between you and Annette… well, she doesn’t have a massive array of spells to her name as far as I know, but there will be others with high defence and low resistance, so Annette is a better choice than Ashe for long distance for this sort of thing.”  
  
“So you’ve been thinking about this too,” Ingrid laughs.

“Unlike someone, I enjoy this topic, Ingrid.”

“Should we have followed the Professor?” Ashe asks, and with a sigh, everyone gets to their feet, heading in the direction of perhaps the most boring battle any of them will ever witness.


	2. Harpstring Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not much, but it’s progress, and that’s all she can ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Annette week! I'm glad this chapter is an Annette chapter hahaha
> 
> Also this fic will be somewhere between 22-25 chapters, I havent decided yet how many hence why it doesn't say

Seteth’s words ring in her mind when Annette wakes up before dawn. _It looks like you have some training to do._ It was true- House Dominic was not a house well known for its huge number of troops or prowess with physical weapons- instead, they focus on magic, and therefore, Annette has absolutely no stamina worth talking about.

Thus started her new routine- three times a week, she was up before the sun to run. On occasion, Lysithea joined her, the two girls finding a fast friendship thanks to their rooms being beside each other as well as a shared interest in magic. It’s like a mage running club, and word of this must have spread, because on even rarer occasions, they’re joined by Dorothea. This isn’t often at all, but the older girl is a well needed laugh in the morning.

Annette would have described herself as a morning person before she came to the Officer’s Academy. She rose just after sunrise, and spent the morning reading and studying, before using the afternoon for more practical pursuits like music and sewing and, when she was allowed, baking. But now, getting up feels like a chore, mostly because she knows she will not enjoy this first part of her day.

When she’s dressed into what she describes as her training clothes, she hurries outside, praying she doesn’t bump into anyone. There’s no sign of Lysithea, and no sounds to be heard from the other side of the door, so Annette begins her run. It’s more of a jog really, across the fishing pond and through the market, a loop around the stables and then back the way she came. She walks most of it, to be truthful, but it’s a vast improvement from week one, when she was out of breath before she even made it across the fishing pond.

It’s not much, but it’s progress, and that’s all she can ask for.

* * *

Annette doesn’t say a word for most of their trip to the Red Canyon. It’s their first proper mission, their first battle in which they’ll be expected to actually kill people. It’s no training battle, no mock battle, no class where she half-heartedly fires off wind spells at her opponents because she’s scared that she’ll accidentally go too hard and really hurt them.

She steels her nerves- this is why she came to the Officer’s Academy, and there’s no turning back now they’re actually on their way to a proper battle. The Professor leads the front of the band, and Annette is somewhere in the middle, riding on a horse that’s a little too big for her beside Sylvain, who makes idle (yet effectively distracting) chit chat the whole time, without expecting her to answer.

Magic pulses at her fingertips every time she thinks about what is about to happen, what she will have to do, and the more she thinks about it, the calmer she becomes. The Professor knows what she’s doing, has discussed a battle strategy based on maps she received from Seteth. Annette knows what to do, where she is supposed to be and who she will be fighting with. Everything will be okay, because there is theory and logic behind this excursion.

The Red Canyon is a surprisingly serene place- white rock cliffs under blue skies, no hint of a cloud ever coming into view. Annette is smart- she knows why this place is called the Red Canyon, but it’s hard to imagine any massacre happening in a place as beautiful as this.

Despite the scenery, it’s clear that this is a dangerous place, crawling with bandits that look a lot tougher than Annette had mentally given them credit for. Regardless, she falls into formation, and waits for the order for the battle to begin.

The Professor’s cold eyes scan across the battlefield, taking in possible problems now that she can see it in real life. Her eyes narrow at who Annette assumes must be the group’s leader- a man much larger than the others, with an axe to match. From their vantage point at the top of the hill, Annette can guess what the Professor is looking at- two sets of stairs, a chest, a fortress. Things they’ve already covered in class, things Annette has already revised.

Byleth gives the order, and slowly, carefully, their class moves forward. Annette fires Wind spells at her enemies, dropping back and moving forward when necessary. Their class splits in two- Dimitri, Dedue, Ingrid and Mercedes heading one way, and herself, Sylvain, Ashe, Felix and the professor heading another. When the first body hits the stone floor that fell by her hand, she doesn’t even feel sad- prouder of herself that she had actually managed to pull that off.

She isn’t the cause of most of the destruction, however. More bandits fall by Byleth and Felix’s swords than anyone else’s. Annette can’t complain about this, though- her magic is running low, and she’s not as confident with her axe as she is with her magic. Despite this, she swaps to her axe, ready to defend herself while she recovers some magic energy.

She finds herself at the back of the group without noticing, and is immediately on edge, because she knows that if they’re flanked, there’s no way she’ll survive, and she _really_ doesn’t want to die on her first ever mission.

Keeping a watch over her shoulder, she follows the rest of the group forward, trying her best to ignore the fact that they haven’t encountered an enemy in a while, but she can still here the clashes of battle from the other group. As this thought enters her head, she can hear the crunching of gravel underfoot behind her, and she whips around, axe at the ready. It’s another bandit, flanking their group as she had suspected all along.

He swings a sword at her, and for some reason her brain focusses on the fact that the sword is rusty, rather than the fact that he is swinging a sword at her. She barely reacts in time, concentrating her energy on rotating her arm from the shoulder in order to parry his blow with her axe. Before she can do anything else, there is a flash of colour from beside her, and the bandit is impaled on the end of Felix’s sword.

Annette isn’t sure where he came from, but she was almost certain that he was at the front of the group before she turned back, and now he’s beside her, removing his sword from the bandit’s stomach and letting the body fall to the ground with an unsavoury splat. He casts his gaze down to her, as if he’s checking that she is in fact, still alive.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Annette huffs, turning away from him to continue on her march.

“Fine, I’ll just let you die next time.”

“I could’ve handled myself! I had it under control.”  
  
“You didn’t have your axe up until the last minute. And when you use your axe, it probably means you’re out of magic.”  
  
“I’m _not_ out of magic!” Why is he being so weird about this? “It’s fine. Thanks, I guess.”  
  
“I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt, okay?” He’s very pointedly not looking at her, but he’s also very clearly escorting her to the rest of the group, and he keeps glancing over his shoulder, checking that there are no more bandits trying to make easy work of them.

“We’re training to be soldiers, Felix. We’re going to get hurt at some point.”

“Well, it would help if it wasn’t on our first mission. Just be more sensible next time, okay? Mages shouldn’t be so close to the back where they can be flanked.”  
  
“Sorry. I’ll do better.”

When they join with the rest of the group, he hurries away from her, leaving her to wonder why on earth he was so bothered. Maybe he’s one of those boys that thinks girls can’t do anything, and she’s a fragile flower that is only a mage because her arms are too weak to lift a sword. She sighs as she fires off a final Wind spell at a wayward bandit who is running towards their boss. Dedue swings for the boss, and with a quick scan of the area, Byleth calls the mission over, and the Blue Lions class all relax.

The trip back to the monastery is a lot less stressful when the battle is done, even if Annette realises that her skirt is stained with blood. At least she knows how to clean it out, though it won’t be the most pleasant experience. Annette isn’t a particularly devout believer, but she makes a mental note to offer up her prayers for the fallen before she heads to bed.

She’s already mentally writing up her battle report. She got a good grade on her last one, and is eager to repeat that performance this time. But of course, this battle was on a whole other level from the last one- the mock battle was more like a glorified sparring match, where they were specifically instructed not to cause too much injury, and under no circumstances were they to go for the kill.

But this report will have to mention those bandits that she killed, and those she watched kill, and the emotions she felt (or didn’t feel, as the case may be) as these men she didn’t know fell after being cut to pieces by her hand.

She catches up with Mercedes as soon as they enter the monastery and dismount from their horses. They link their arms together and hurry off, Mercedes keen to head to the cathedral before doing anything else. Annette finds it hard to believe she had to kill anyone, but the look in her friend’s eyes show that she saw more than she wanted to on that field today.

“Oh Annie, it was horrible. But that’s why we’re here,” Mercedes explains, folding her hands neatly on her lap. She words her thoughts the same way Annette did- these people were bad, and that’s why they were sent to get rid of them. Neither of them would have applied to the Officer’s Academy if they didn’t know that- it would have been another year at the School of Sorcery for both of them.

“It doesn’t mean it’s not scary,” Annette replies, a reminder for herself more than it is for Mercedes. “I mean… I wasn’t that scared, but the more I think about it, I think I could have been so terrified that I was calm.”  
  
“Hopefully in time, we’ll move past scared and into calm at every stage. It’ll be okay,” Mercedes offers, setting a hand on Annette’s forearm with that calming smile Annette doesn’t know if she could live without.

She leaves Mercedes to her prayers and heads back to her dorm. She’s glad their dorms are so close together- there’s been a few times so far that she’s needed the emotional support and Mercie has been just one door away. Annette strips off her uniform and into her loungewear. It’s not attractive by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s comfy (with another layer on top because it’s still a bit chilly for no sleeves).

Doing laundry isn’t her favourite experience, but when she enters the laundry room, Ingrid is there too, scrubbing stains out of her uniform with vigour. Annette silently joins her, dunking her uniform into a basin of cold water and hoping for the best that the stains will disappear without too much effort.

“Same idea as me, huh?” Ingrid asks, keeping her eyes focussed on her own laundry.

“Better to get the stains out before they set,” Annette says with a forced giggle.

“It’s grim, isn’t it? But we’ll get used to it in time. I reckon even next month it will be nowhere near as bad as today.”

“You’re probably right. I think it would help if we knew what we were fighting for, too. And all this before I’m even legally an adult!”

It all comes back to getting used to it, to that being why they’re here. And Annette knows this, and understands this, and tries her best to convince herself that this is what she wants, and she’s not just here to see her father, if he’s even here at all.

Well, she _knows_ he is, she just hasn’t spotted him yet. These first two months have been busy, and Annette hasn’t had the time nor the energy to be running around the monastery in between classes in order to look for a man who doesn’t wish to see her. He hasn’t wished to communicate with her in years, and yet she, perhaps somewhat selfishly, chases after him in the hope that he’ll just write to her mother.

When she returns to her room, Annette pulls out her notes from class, and last month’s battle report (with a lovely A written on it by Byleth’s hand), and a fresh roll of parchment. The words flow out of her hand quickly, barely interacting with her brain on the way there. It’s almost therapeutic, Annette thinks, scribbling away until it’s completely dark outside.

By candlelight she reads over what she’s written, and hopes that Byleth doesn’t laugh at her. She writes of tactics and personal growth and her feelings when the first bandit fell by her hand. She has a tangent on the battlefield, and the outcome of the battle, and a section on how she worked with her allies, including Felix helping her (or saving her in his eyes). She doesn’t mention how angry she was with him, overlooking this fact in order to sing his praises, though she doesn’t really feel he deserves it.

* * *

Annette proudly sets her report on Byleth’s desk on Monday morning, and can’t help but admire that she got that done as well as helping clean the greenhouse and having lunch with the professor and attending choir practice. It’s a good report too, and she knows she’ll get a good grade on it. Not that grades on written work are the most important thing to get out of her experience in the Officer’s Academy, but it would be nice to have a clean sheet of A’s when she eventually graduated.

Monday morning’s class is tactics, and Annette is quick to notice that Felix isn’t there. She had wanted to reiterate her thanks for dashing in to save her, because the more she thinks about it, the more she is grateful for his help, because truthfully, she has no idea whether or not the bandit would’ve killed her (and the rust on that sword still sticks in her mind). But she didn’t see him all weekend, though they understandably have very different schedules and interests, and she was too busy learning the alto part of this month’s Requiem to be looking for moody swordsmen who probably weren’t even interested in her gratefulness.

She forgets all about it when Ashe and Mercie invite her to the kitchen after class- a morning full of tactics and an afternoon of brawling, which Annette can only put up with when she tells herself it’s basically self-defence. She knows that it’s just part of the curriculum, and some students will hate Reason classes, but that doesn’t mean that it’s boring, and if she were someone else, she would just skip class.

It’s biscuits on the menu today, and as much as Annette loves eating biscuits, she’s terrible at making them, and Mercedes only entrusts her with measuring ingredients while she and Ashe do all the hard work making dough and cutting the biscuits out. Regardless, it’s fun, and she enjoys getting to spend time with her friends, especially Ashe, who she has found a quick friendship in. The smell of the biscuits is enough to convince Annette that this was a good idea, and she finds herself humming a tune to herself while the biscuits are iced by Mercedes’ careful hand.

A box of biscuits are set on Byleth’s desk the next morning, and Annette finds herself grinning as the Blue Lions tuck in to the friends’ hard wo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Follow me on twitter!](https://twitter.com/floccesyranch)
> 
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	3. Garland Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix rolls his eyes- even if it wasn’t a lecture aimed directly at him, it still felt like one, and he drops his gaze to the bundle of multicoloured flowers on his desk. He doesn’t like the look of this- too many bad memories about hayfever as a child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have anything particularly interesting to say about this chapter. Felix time.

After an earful (or five) from Ingrid about missing classes that she deems important, Felix makes sure that he’ll drag himself to every single class for a month just to make her shut up. He’s usually there before her, and she always visibly relaxes when she takes her seat at the desk behind him. Sylvain makes an ill-timed joke about her being obsessed with him, before Felix quickly counters that Ingrid has waited outside Sylvain’s room at night to make sure he goes to bed alone.

This puts both boys in a bad mood for the class, something that even Byleth realises, her face dropping as she places bunches of flowers in front of every student. She regards them carefully, eyes narrowing as if she’s trying to figure out something but she’s not sure what it is. She moves on though, and Felix can only sigh, because he’s already had a lecture from Ingrid and he can’t be bothered listening to one from Byleth too.

“This is this month’s cultural history class. I know from the last two months that for some of you, this is not your favourite class, and because it isn’t graded, you feel like you don’t have to try. But please do make an effort, because this is for fun. Some of you need to remember that you are teenagers, aside from Mercedes, and that you should be having fun. Anyway…”  
  
Felix rolls his eyes- even if it wasn’t a lecture aimed directly at him, it still felt like one, and he drops his gaze to the bundle of multicoloured flowers on his desk. He doesn’t like the look of this- too many bad memories about hayfever as a child.

“As you all know, this month is the Garland Moon. Traditionally, this is when women weave garlands of white roses to give to their friends or lovers. I… couldn’t get my hands on any white roses, though, so I just got a variety of flowers for everyone to work with. So today we are going to make garlands, and I want everyone to exchange them with someone else, be it in this class or in another.”

She doesn’t demonstrate how to do it, simply handing out sheets with diagrams on them and taking a seat at her desk, biting her lip as she makes her own attempt at a garland. The class follows in her footsteps, lifting flowers, and falling into quiet chit-chat while they weave stems in and out. By the time the bell goes at the end of the class, the Blue Lions have produced nine garlands, of varying quality.

As they file out of the room, Felix remembers Byleth’s words about sharing their garlands with someone else, and so he throws the hastily made, poor quality garland at Ingrid, not even blinking when some of the flowers fall out.

“There. Girls like flowers, right?”  
  
“Wow, thanks Felix,” Ingrid says sarcastically, picking the flowers off the ground with more care than Felix ever would have dreamed of. “So thoughtful of you.”

He can’t really find it in him to care, so he shrugs his shoulders and stalks off in the direction of the library. Byleth rarely sets homework, but this week came with a hefty essay on the use of long-range weapons, for either the history class or the tactics class, whichever angle they wanted to approach it from. The library is busy, though, so he checks the book out, and heads outside.

This month finally brings about warmer weather, with all the students of the Officer’s Academy changing into their summer uniforms- a much uglier colour than the winter uniforms in Felix’s opinion. There are more students out and about now, instead of confined to their rooms in a vain attempt to ward off the early spring’s chilly breeze.

Felix finds a spot in a shaded corner, and begins reading the heavy tome on ranged artillery, even though he would much rather be in the training grounds right now and it’s only around the corner and he could easily sneak away. He weighs up the repercussions of getting extra training in and not handing his homework in, before coming to the decision that not having to endure Byleth’s blank and yet still disappointed stare was definitely the better of the two options.

He makes it about halfway through the first chapter before a shadow falls across the page, causing Felix to look up, annoyed that someone would dare interrupt his reading. There stands Annette, peering over the edge of the book before she flops down on the grass beside him.

“Oh, I’ve read that one! For the essay, right? There’s a really interesting part in chapter six about the properties required to make magic orbs, you should check it out if you’re doing the essay from a historical point of view. Or a tactical one really-“  
  
“Annette,” Felix interrupts, effectively making her close her mouth. “I’m not even halfway through the introduction.”  
  
“Oh, sorry. W-well, I was on my way to choir practice, and I saw you sitting here and… I wanted to give you this.”

She hands him the garland she made in class- much neater than his, the flowers arranged in a way that makes sense, tightly weaved together so they won’t immediately fall apart like his one. He’s a little shocked, so he accepts her gift without really thinking about it.

“Why?” Felix says, before he can come up with a proper coherent thought.

“To say thank you properly for saving me last month, even if I probably didn’t need saving. But it’s only a probably, and I could’ve died. And also, I was really rude to you about it, and I don’t want you to think that’s what I’m like, because I’m not! I swear! I was just really stressed, and…”  
  
“Thanks,” Felix mumbles, staring at the garland in his hands. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but… why me? Why didn’t you give it to Mercedes, or something? Ashe?”  
  
“Well, they’re already my friends. I… goddess, this sounds silly, but I was hoping we could be friends. You don’t seem to like your friends very much, even if they’re nice people. So what about one more friend?” Annette stares at her knees, not even daring to look at him. This isn’t something that goes unnoticed by Felix- why is she so scared of him? At the same time, he wonders why she isn’t _more_ scared of him.  
  
“Sure,” he says, because it’s easier than arguing with her and potentially upsetting her. “Thanks for the flowers, but I really need to go back to my reading.”  
  
“Oh! Of course. Sorry to bother you, Felix. I need to get to choir practice too. See you later!”  
  
And as quickly as she arrived, Annette is gone, leaving Felix alone with his book, the garland, and his thoughts.

* * *

Felix brings back the garland to his room, feeling it would be rude if he had just left it on the grass or thrown it out on the way back. After all, Annette did put a lot of work into the item, and it was… kind of her to give him it. The journey is mostly undetected, until he gets the top floor of the dorms and Sylvain falls into step with him.

“Where’d you get those from?” He asks, his eyes falling on the flowers Felix holds in his hands.

“They were a gift,” Felix mumbles, avoiding looking at his friend because he knows what he’ll see, and he knows he won’t like it.

“From who?” Sylvain presses, leering over Felix’s shoulder.

“None of your business.”  
  
“Well, getting a garland from a girl on the Garland Moon usually means that you have a secret admirer, Felix.” There’s an inflection in Sylvain’s voice that Felix does not like- his implications are completely wrong. That is _not_ what Annette meant- it was a thank you, but Sylvain won’t believe him if he says that.

“They’re from Annette,” Felix says eventually, because Sylvain will find out somehow, and it’s easier to tell him now and get the teasing over and done with.

“Ooh! Now _that_ is an unexpected answer! Didn’t know you two had a thing!”  
  
“I’ve spoken to her twice ever. Why on earth would I… goddess, you really only think about one thing, don’t you? Disgusting.”  
  
Felix shakes Sylvain off, and ignores his protests as he shuts the door behind him. The garland gets tossed onto his desk, the textbook onto the bed. He can still sense Sylvain’s presence- one gets accustomed to this after so many years of knowing each other- and his fears are confirmed when Sylvain yells though the door.

“I’ll be your wingman!”  
  
“Go annoy Ingrid!”

He must think this is a better idea, as Felix hears his footsteps disappear down the corridor. He has an essay to write, as does Sylvain, probably, and he can’t let himself be distracted when, despite everything, he does want to get a decent grade. Others talk of letting their families down, becoming an embarrassment to their House, but Felix worries more about embarrassing himself, because at seventeen years old he couldn’t care less about his house and what his father thinks of his grades in school.

* * *

The essay lingers on Felix’s mind even after it’s written. It sits on his desk, under the heavy book that he really should return to the library in case anyone else needs it (but a tiny part of him also wants to keep it for the same reason). It stays in the forefront of his consciousness when he wakes in the morning that it’s due to be handed in, when he dresses in a loose shirt and comfy trousers and pulls on his boots and runs around the monastery before the sun is even up.

Maybe it’s the essay, or maybe it’s Sylvain, he thinks, when he pauses to catch his breath outside the steps to the dormitories and sees Annette running up and down the length of the fishing pond. Sylvain’s words, coupled with Byleth’s, ring in his head. Yes, the garlands were given by girls to their lovers. But on a technicality, they were supposed to be garlands of white roses, and Felix swears that the garland on his desk is mostly yellow.

Annette notices him, skidding to a halt and then stumbling forward another few steps. When she’s standing beside him, Felix notices how short she really is, and how her hair piled on top of her head really doesn’t make a difference.

“Good morning!” She greets, and Felix wishes he had just walked up the stairs and back to his room and ignored his mental Sylvain.

“Hi.”  
  
“Why are you up this early?”  
  
“Running. Same as you.”

“Oh! Cool. I’m just running up and down the fishing pond at the minute, because it’s… well, easier for me because I’m not a runner. Or good at doing most physical things, I suppose.”  
  
“It’s good that you’re training on your own. Uh, I think so anyway. It’s… good.” Goddess, now Sylvain in his head is really laughing at him. “Whatever.”

“I want to see if I can get a few more laps in before class, so I’ll see you there, Felix!”

And then she’s gone, halfway towards the pier before Felix has even realised that she has left. He stomps back up to his room, pushing past Ferdinand as he goes and ignoring his cry of “excuse me!”. With his uniform on, and the accursed essay in his hand, Felix stares at the garland that still lies on his desk. Over the weekend, some of the petals have fallen off, and the remaining flowers have begun to wilt.

Carefully, he plucks one of the less dead flowers from the garland, and tears two squares of parchment from one of the scrolls on his desk. The flower is set between the two, and then he places the paper between two heavy books. He’s not sure why he’s doing this, hell, he doesn’t even know how he knows to do this. Maybe he remembers from his mother, all those years ago- it’s the sort of thing she would have enjoyed doing, and if he concentrates enough, he can imagine pressed flowers hanging on the walls in the parlour that she used to frequent.

This is an excellent start to his morning, Felix thinks ruefully. First there was his mental Sylvain annoying him, then an awkward conversation with Annette, who he would rather not be embarrassing himself around solely to shut up both mental Sylvain and real Sylvain. And to top it off, now he’s thinking about his dead mother twenty minutes before he goes to class.

Ingrid waves him over at breakfast, and for those few minutes, his other worries disappear from his mind, because loathe as he is to admit it, but Ingrid is his least annoying friend, even if she worries too much and constantly tries to insert herself where he doesn’t think she belongs. But she chatters away through mouthfuls of porridge, and Felix feels almost normal.

That is until they walk into the Blue Lions classroom, and someone is already sitting in Felix’s seat. Someone with curly brown hair and a stupid hat, practically draped over Sylvain while he laughs at whatever she’s saying. Felix looks to Ingrid for moral support, but she just shrugs with a smirk as she slides into her own seat. Felix glares at the back of Dorothea’s head from his new seat as Byleth enters the room.

“Good morning everyone. As you can see, Dorothea has transferred to our class from the Black Eagles. I’m trusting you all to make her feel welcome.”  
  
There are murmured greetings from most of the class, and Felix wrinkles his nose when he very obviously sees Sylvain wink at her and mumble something that no one else can hear. He does not like this emotion, and he will not admit to himself what it is, even though he knows damn well what’s going on.

So instead, after class he follows Mercedes to the cathedral and listens to her praying, and takes tea with her and listens to her talk about her family and regrets this choice so much when she starts prattling on about Felix is so much like her little brother. He heads to the training grounds where Jeritza is conveniently there, and spars with him for a while before Caspar appears, and he supposes that he may as well work on his brawling.

He eats dinner in silence with Leonie and Raphael, who he occasionally sees at the training grounds. They’re good company, despite being in a different class than him- mostly because they don’t really expect conversation out of him and when they do it’s about weapons and training and sparring, all things that Felix actually knows how to talk about.

He decides that he probably should return that library book after all, and briefly heads to his dorm after dinner to pick it up. The corridor is usually silent at this time of night- the students are either studying in silence, or still out around the monastery grounds, as curfew isn’t for another two hours. Felix can hear noises from Sylvain’s room at the end of the corridor, and makes a point of stomping around and slamming the door, because goddess knows if Dimitri is in he’ll be too polite to do it himself.

When he makes it to the library, he spots Annette at one of the tables, but he’s angry at mental Sylvain, which means he can act normally around her. She waves, and he waves back, and that is the end of the interaction. He returns the book to the librarian, who glares at him for being so late, but he truly does not care.

It’s still light out, thanks to summer’s approach, and Felix finds himself spending another few hours swinging a sword around, with no real feeling behind it for the first time in his life.


	4. Blue Sea Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because they are her songs, and it’s just a bit of fun- she’s not expecting to become a world-famous lyricist. It’s a hobby that takes her mind off her absent father and her odd uncle and her overprotective mother and the fact that the only way she can bring her family back together is to enrol in a school that literally trains children to be soldiers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annette focussed chapter! This was so fun to write.

Annette didn’t consider herself someone who was easily annoyed. She thought she had a high tolerance for other people, and was generally rather forgiving when others made mistakes or hurt her. So when she spends a Sunday afternoon in her room, seething, practically shaking with anger, she wonders if there is something seriously wrong with her.

It’s not that she’s never experienced anger before. That was the whole reason she was here, if she really thought about it. No, Annette was familiar with anger, and with annoyance, but this was new. This was some combination of both, mixed in with a healthy amount of embarrassment.

Gardening duty was usually nothing to blink an eye at- watering the plants, putting plant food around the ones that needed them, pulling off dead leaves, and making sure everything was tidy before you left. Annette likes gardening duty, as with most jobs she does, because she likes feeling helpful, and not only does she help the head gardener, but she helps the plants too, and that makes her feel good.

And okay, maybe she likes having the time to herself. It gives her time alone to practice her songs, in a place with nice acoustics that’s not the church. As much as she loves choir practice, she doesn’t like being in the shadow of the others, because okay, they’re miles better than her, but that’s because Dorothea is a trained opera singer and Hilda is good at everything, even if she pretends not to be.

But because Annette has no control over her own body, apparently, she starts singing and dancing, loudly enough to attract people in. Well, a person. And she’s lucky it’s just one, because she is absolutely certain that she would die if other people knew of her hobby. Choir practice is one thing, but composing silly songs is another, and if she is ‘Annette that one alto in the cathedral choir’ for all her days at Garreg Mach she can die happy.

Of course someone heard her, and of course that person would be Felix. Felix, who looks like he’s about to burst into laughter any second at her cakes and steaks song. She wants to vanish into thin air, she wants the ground to eat her up, to be buried within the soil that holds the plants and never reappear. Because Felix is about to laugh at her, because he is _evil_.

Why was he even there? It was definitely her week to work in the greenhouse- Caspar the week before and Ignatz the week after. Was he spying on her? Oh Goddess, she knew giving him that garland was a bad idea- now he thought she liked him! But she’s more annoyed that he _stayed_ after hearing her sing, rather than realising it was a private practise moment and not to be intruded on by people who don’t even sing in church on Sundays.

She paces the room, trying to let her anger flow from her brain to her feet and out through the floorboards, but then she realises that that’s a silly idea too, and feels even angrier, and then sadder, until she flops down on her bed, face in the pillow. She feels like crying, but even the thought of it makes her feel tired, so she just lies there, and takes deep breaths, and waits this feeling out.

Logically, it wasn’t Felix’s fault. He just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time and cause what was absolutely without a doubt Annette’s most embarrassing moment ever. But now he knows this incredibly awful secret about her, and he might go and tell people, and there’s literally nothing Annette can think of that’s worse than her classmates- no, the entirely of Garreg Mach- finding out about her songs.

Because they are _her_ songs, and it’s just a bit of fun- she’s not expecting to become a world-famous lyricist. It’s a hobby that takes her mind off her absent father and her odd uncle and her overprotective mother and the fact that the only way she can bring her family back together is to enrol in a school that literally trains children to be soldiers.

(And yes, she _loves_ magic, but that’s not the point.)

She has to come up with a way to keep Felix’s mouth shut. He’s not a particularly loud person, like Sylvain, per se, but he’s the sort of person that’s vindictive enough to keep this hanging over her head until they graduate, and no doubt they’ll come into contact again after they graduate, what with being the heirs to their respective houses (a technicality more on her part- she has no intentions of taking over the Barony no matter what her uncle says.

Felix will blab, that much she is certain of. It may not be now, and it may not be on purpose, but it will happen eventually, and she is not ready for the world to find out about her songs, now or in the future. She needs a plan, but if there is one thing Annette is not good at, it’s making plans like this.

Avoiding him is step one. This is admittedly difficult, given that they live in the same building and attend all the same classes (though it hasn’t escaped her notice that he occasionally skips class). But while she ‘avoids’ him, she just ends up getting closer to him accidentally- they get paired up for combat practice, they end up being on the same rota for dining hall duty.

She sees that insufferable smirk on his face when he catches her humming a few notes when she thinks he’s at the opposite end of the room, and turns her back on him, willing him to just disappear. Annette wouldn’t say she dislikes Felix, but his current occupation of her brain is making her life very difficult.

“What do you _want_?” She asks eventually, turning on him as she finishes laying the final few plates on the table. He looks up from polishing cutlery, and gives her a blank stare.

“What do you mean?”  
  
“Oh, don’t act all innocent with me, Felix Fraldarius! I’m not stupid.”  
  
“I never said that you were,” he points out drily. “Are you done? I want to put this cutlery out, and you still have all the glasses to set out too.”

“You! Ugh! You need to forget about what happened the other day.”  
  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
  
“You do! Ugh, you are evil! I have had it with you!”

She moves out of his way, stomping to the other end of the room to make it very clear that she is actually very angry with him, thank you very much. She sets the glasses out quickly, because she both really wants to get away from Felix, and she wants to finish some reading before dinner. When she turns around to tell him she’s done, Annette finds him staring at her, cutlery still in his hand, only just over half set out. Instead of yelling at him to finish quicker, she just gives a feeble wave, and scuttles out the door before she can do anything else to embarrass herself.

She has work to do, and no time to think about boys. Sometimes she overhears Dorothea talking about the dates she’s been on, and wishes that someone would ask her out. But she has no time, and really, it’s more about being invited than actually wanting to go. Mercie has an endless line of suitors, but keeps her eyes permanently upturned towards the Goddess, and really, Annette can’t blame her for it at all. She has never ever heard Ingrid mention any interest in boys- she assumes having to deal with Sylvain and Dimitri and Felix all the time has worn her out.

And Annette doesn’t _want_ to think about boys, because then her mind circles back to the reason she’s here. She hasn’t caught wind of her father, nor seen his familiar ginger hair disappearing around a corner. She supposes since he’s a knight, supposedly, she could probably ask someone if they knew if he was here. But she wouldn’t know what to say- hey, do you know where my dad is? Any official would laugh at her.

She hasn’t thought further than seeing him. What will she say to him? What _can_ she say to him? It’s been so long since she’s seen him- she can barely even count how many years she’s lived in the Dominic estate without her father. Of course, she loves the rest of her family dearly, but her mother hasn’t been the same since he abandoned them.

Four years. When she really thinks about it, her mind clears, and Annette knows that it’s been four years since he left. If this is the fifth year without him present in her life, that’s three years in that house without a father, and a year at the School of Sorcery, away from any family members (though at this point, Mercedes may as well be family). She’s been running from her responsibilities, but now she will talk to him; if not for her sake, for her mother’s.

Annette sighs, focussing her attention anywhere but her father. There is work due for next week, but it’s already done, so she pulls her notes out from the third week of class and begins rewriting them again, this time neater, and with more diagrams now that she knows more about the topics. Revision isn’t her favourite part of studying, but at least it gives her mind something to occupy herself.

Eventually, she gets up, and heads to the library, with the hopes that changing her environment will help her get her mind off her father and concentrate better on her studies. She’s making fast progress towards being able to take her Mage exam at the end of the month, and she already has her sights on potentially taking the Gremory exam before she graduates. But that’s a while off, and there’s a whole host of spells she has to learn before that time comes.

Annette likes to think she has full mastery over the basic Wind spell, and though she never uses them in real battle, she’s almost certain she can describe herself as proficient with Fire and Thunder too. Blizzard gives her trouble, but regardless, she reckons she could make a good go at it if it were a life or death situation.

Cutting Gale is next on her list, so she holes herself up in a dark corner of the library, scouring the tome for information that will help her. They have magic class tomorrow- her favourite of the week as its really her only chance to show off. Dorothea’s entry into their class put a dampener on her spirits for a few weeks, but with a one on one training session with the other girl, Annette found that their skills were in vastly different areas.

Dorothea’s spells are wild, huge columns of fire and fireballs and what looks like a flamethrower if she manages to get it right. But she doesn’t always get it right- sometimes she misses, sometimes she casts too hard, and the flames shoot out wildly and dispel before they even get near a target. But when they do hit, Dorothea’s spells are deadly.

Annette is the opposite. She takes longer to cast, thinking about different incantations and how she should be standing and the exact angle her arm should be at in order to make the most efficient spell possible. And though she has a more limited spell list, and she isn’t as powerful as her classmate, Annette’s spells never miss, because she spends so long concentrating before even thinking about letting the spell tingle at the tips of her fingers.

They’re not allowed to practise spells without supervision, though, so it’s just theory study for now. Annette thinks this is a stupid rule, especially considering the few times she’s stuck her head into the training area on the off-chance Professor Byleth, or maybe Hanneman or even Manuela are there, the whole room is filled with weapons users practicing. Mercie mentions all the time how many injuries she and Professor Manuela have to deal with due to unsupervised practice, but it’s not their place to complain, so the two have to keep quiet and keep their heads down.

This is just another distraction, Annette realises, pushing the thoughts out of her head in favour of really concentrating on the spell. If she can get the basic idea of it down before class tomorrow, she can try it out there, under Professor Byleth’s watchful eye. As much as she hates these rules, they can be useful- goddess knows she’d be sneaking into the training grounds and probably destroying the place in order to perfect the spell before tomorrow’s class.

The circle is confusing, but once Annette applies her previous knowledge of wind-based spells to it, and recalls the Bolganone spell she studied briefly at the academy, she understands it pretty quickly. The incantation is easy to translate and understand too, but Annette doesn’t dare speak it out loud, because knowing her luck, she’ll blow the whole library away.

It doesn’t feel like she’s reading for that long before the librarian comes over and shoos her out, lucky to even find her before he locks the doors. Annette isn’t sure how she looked at the pages for that long by the dim light of a not particularly good candle, but when she steps outside, into the grounds of the monastery lit by starlight, she can feel her eyes have been strained.

With no one else about, she’s tempted to try Cutting Gale, even though she really shouldn’t, and she definitely would get detention if she were caught. But there’s still half an hour before curfew, and everyone else is probably at the baths at this time of night, including anyone who would potentially catch her like Seteth.

So Annette steadies her hands, raises them in front of her for a brief second, watching green light gather at her fingertips. She mumbles the incantation, and nearly dies in horror as all the leaves blow off a particularly well trimmed shrub in front of her. Pretending it wasn’t her, she powerwalks away from the scene of her crime, embarrassed but also elated that the spell worked. It wasn’t perfect, but it was no mere Wind spell, that’s for sure.

As she rounds the corner towards the dormitories, she hears a familiar clank of armoured boots, and a tall figure falls into step with her. She takes a brave glance up at him, and sees Dimitri smiling down at her, though his expression isn’t what she would describe as happy.

“I saw what you did to that poor shrub.”  
  
“Please don’t tell on me!” Annette all but yells, and Dimitri just laughs.

“Relax. I’m giving you a warning as house leader. I’m surprised if anyone in our class was to break the rules it would be you, Annette. Hence why I won’t tell the Professor.”  
  
“I won’t do it again,” she mumbles, staring at her boots. “Thanks for not getting me into trouble.”  
  
“Is there a spell for putting leaves back onto shrubs, I wonder?” Dimitri asks, and when Annette studies his expression, she’s really not sure if he is joking or not.

“That’s probably necromancy,” she answers. “I’m no expert on that, though. You’d have to ask someone like Hubert, or something. Lysithea, maybe. All I know how to do is kill shrubs apparently.”  
  
“There's no way Seteth will know it's you. In fact, I doubt he’ll notice one slightly bald shrub on his rounds.”

“Thanks for making me not feel bad about garden murder, Dimitri. Have a good night!”  
  
He gives her a wave and disappears, and even from her room, she can hear the clank of his metal boots on the floorboards overhead. He really is rather strange Annette thinks- and she wonders, even though she doesn’t want to- if he knows anything about her father.


	5. Verdant Rain Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, I said sorry for that."
> 
> “Did you?”
> 
> “Okay, well, I’m sorry. Happy?”
> 
> “No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if this chapter technically fits into canon but I also don't care

Sylvain has been quiet all month. This would usually be worrying to Ingrid and Felix, because Sylvain is the most outgoing out of them, and to see him in a mood like this would usually give concern to his friends. But at least they know _why_ he’s like this this month, and they can’t blame him at all.

Felix and Ingrid are well aware of Sylvain’s fragile mental state, and pretend for his sake that they don’t know that all the womanising is just a front for how messed up his brother left him.

And here’s his brother now, resurfaced after all these years of no contact with Sylvain, and of _course_ Rhea has to send their class to deal with it, rather than the Black Eagles or Golden Deer. It’s because the professor has that fancy sword now- not that Felix thinks having a Relic makes her any more impressive than she was before.

He can’t help but wonder if his father will ever let him have the Aegis Shield, with all this talk of Relics. Probably when Rodrigue is on his deathbed, he’ll dramatically bequeath the shield to Felix and he’ll have to step up, because that’s the sort of man that his father is. It’s a nice shield, Felix thinks, even if he’ll never admit it in front of his father.

There’s another redhead on his mind at the minute, even with the whole situation with Sylvain and Miklan. Seteth introduced Gilbert Pronislav to the class at the start of the month, as he will be accompanying their class to Conand Tower. There’s something off about him, but if he’s a Knight of Seiros, he at least has the trust of Rhea, and that supposedly counts for something.

Felix doesn’t care about the Knights of Seiros at all. He admires Catherine’s swordsmanship, and that’s it. He would love a chance to train with her, but the woman is permanently by Rhea’s side, and there’s no way that he can just march up and demand a spar. Jeritza is a good instructor, but there’s only so much training he can do before he memorises all of his tutor’s moves. He still can’t beat Jeritza, but a victory isn’t far off.

The Knights are hard to pin down, especially with the amount of missions they get sent on. Byleth’s father is rarely seen (another person Felix would love to spar with), so Felix wonders why Gilbert constantly seems to be outside the Officer’s Academy when classes are finishing. Sometimes he’s checking the noticeboard, sometimes he’s talking with a fellow knight, sometimes he just stands there, as if he’s waiting for something. Always so close to the Blue Lions classroom, with his eyes following the students as they file out to continue their day elsewhere.

His gut feeling of distrust is confirmed at dinner on a particularly rainy Thursday. Tonight’s meal is spicy fish and turnip stew, and without Byleth in sight to force him into conversation, Felix can enjoy his meal in peace. Sylvain wordlessly takes a seat beside him, and Mercedes sits opposite Sylvain, glancing from her dinner to Sylvain, a worried expression on her face. Their silence is broken by an angry Ingrid, who stomps over out of nowhere, slamming her plate down opposite Felix.

“What’s wrong?” Mercedes asks, gentle concern in her tone.

“I hate men. Every single one of them.”  
  
“Oh, Ingrid. Only most men are terrible! Who has annoyed you today?”

“Well, I’m still angry at Felix for telling me to get a husband last week, but I can forgive him for that because he’s still technically a child and is also really stupid when it comes to dealing with other people.”  
  
“Hey, I said sorry for that,” Felix interjects, earning him another glare from Ingrid.

“Did you?”

“Okay, well, I’m sorry. Happy?”  
  
“No.”

“Calm down,” Mercedes intervenes. “Is there something else on your mind, Ingrid?”  
  
“Yes. You know that Gilbert guy? He really gives me the creeps. He keeps staring at Annette, every day after class. I’ve tried walking beside her to hide her from his line of view, but he pops up at a different place every day and it’s impossible to predict where he’ll be from one day to the next. I just don’t have a good feeling about him.”  
  
“He’s staring at Annie? Oh, how horrible. I’ll help you tomorrow. We get out early to do Faith practice, so maybe we can sneak her away before he sees her!”

“Do either of you have something to say about this?” Ingrid asks, turning her fury to Felix and Sylvain. “I’m not surprised Sylvain has nothing to say, because he loves creeping on women. And Felix is bad in a different way!”

“Hey, I am not creeping. I stop flirting if there isn’t any interest from the other party,” Sylvain defends himself, but there’s no strength to his argument.

“Ingrid, you’re just shouting about nothing now. Of course if this guy is being weird to Annette that’s bad. We’re not stupid. I don’t like the way he appears out of nowhere either.” Felix sets his fork down, his meal finished while Ingrid ranted. She seems to visibly relax, taking a few forkfuls of her dinner thoughtfully.

“I just don’t know why. Why is he doing this? Does he not have any other missions to do before the end of the month? So little paperwork or training that he can just stand outside our classroom all day?”  
  
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” Mercedes soothes. “There’s probably a reason- it could be a coincidence. It’s likely that he’s just waiting to speak to the Professor to go over the plans for the mission at the end of the month. That’s only a week away, now, so…”  
  
“You’re probably right,” Ingrid sighs through a mouthful of turnip. “He still gives me the creeps though. I’m going to keep an eye on him.”  
  
“Probably not a bad idea.”

Gilbert is outside the dining hall when they leave, Ingrid and Felix heading in the direction of the training grounds. Felix feels like he owes her one, not that that means he’s going to go easy on her. Ingrid glares at the knight on their way out, but he doesn’t respond.

“Do you think I’m overreacting?” Ingrid asks quietly.

“No. Maybe with the “I hate all men” part, but… whatever. I know Sylvain and I haven’t always been great to you, but… we care about you. And everyone else in the class. And if that means protecting Annette even if she doesn’t want it, so be it.”  
  
“You know it doesn’t apply to you two. Well, most of the time anyway.” Ingrid glances across at him, and then away, a bewildered expression on her face. “What did you mean by ‘even if she doesn’t want it’?”

“Nothing,” Felix says, not too quickly, not too slowly. He’s still rather embarrassed about the whole event- from her being grumpy about her dashing in to save him, to her giving him the garland and Sylvain seeing him with it.

“Sure. Well, as long as she has someone looking out for her, I think she’ll be okay.”

* * *

The march to Conand Tower seems to take forever. It’s a miserable day once again, surprising for this time of year, towards the end of summer. It’s cold and horrible, the rain soaking through Felix’s thief outfit. It shouldn’t be too long until he’s able to take another certification exam, but he argues with Byleth about the route he should take every time it’s brought up. He likes the title of swordsmaster, but she reckons he’d be better as an assassin.

He is positioned towards the back of the caravan, with only Dorothea and Gilbert behind him. Sylvain rides at the front with Byleth, who Felix assumes must be comforting him before he has to come face to face with his brother. Occasionally, Dorothea rides past him, falling back when she’s done her conversation. That leaves him and Gilbert alone, and gives Felix plenty of time to really look at Gilbert.

He looks exhausted for a man who seems to have done nothing all month. There are dark circles and bags under his eyes, and his hair seems to be greyer than it was when they were introduced at the beginning of the month. The wrinkles and lines on his face seem more pronounced too, and he doesn’t look ahead, merely staring into the distance. Felix isn’t sure if any of these observations are real, or if they are just coming from a vague sense of contempt that Felix holds for the man.

Conand Tower is hiving with bandits when they arrive, Byleth casting long distance spells before even dismounting her horse in the hopes of scaring some of them off before they even get in. Some scatter, as she hoped, and others retreat into the tower itself, presumably to warn Miklan that they’re here.

It’s odd, Felix thinks, that Miklan Gautier hasn’t been about for years, and suddenly he’s reappeared on the border between Fraldarius and Galatea, with the Lance of Ruin he stole from House Gautier. It’s odder still that Rhea sent the Blue Lions, with the knowledge that Sylvain would have to witness the killing of his own brother, or worse, do it by his own hand. But Byleth isn’t that cruel- Felix knows that Sylvain will be kept to the backlines as far as possible.

As the class dismount, Felix tries to ignore the clanking of heavy plate armour from behind him, and stands on his tiptoes to check that Ingrid is with Annette as she had promised. Annette turns back to face him with a sad expression on her face- nowhere near the despair that Sylvain has been going through, but somewhere in between sadness and fear.

And it clicks in Felix’s head that Gilbert has ginger hair and blue eyes, and Annette has ginger hair and blue eyes, and _of course_ he wasn’t standing outside the Blue Lions classroom every day for a month for fun, he was waiting to see Annette because she is his daughter, or at least some close relation. Annette wasn't looking at Felix.

And then, Felix realises with abject horror, that this man isn’t Gilbert Pronislav at all.

This is Gustav Dominic, who left House Dominic after the Tragedy of Duscur. Felix’s father has spoken of this man on numerous occasions, and though he has never outwardly said anything bad against him, Felix knows Rodrigue’s tone well, and it betrays disgust every time he comes up in conversation.

It makes so much sense, though Felix isn’t exactly sure what to do with this information. Now isn’t the time to be confronting Gilbert about why he’s suddenly turned up at the monastery while the Kingdom wasn’t sure of his whereabouts for the previous few years. As much as he would love to take a swing at him, Felix knows that there is more important things right now, and it’s Miklan and the Lance of Ruin.

* * *

Felix is still curious when they return to the monastery, bloody and bruised from by far their worst mission yet. The Professor returns the relic to the Archbishop, and the whole subject is dropped. Ingrid doesn’t leave Sylvain’s side, and Felix’s stomach drops when he sees how she’s looking at him- it’s not at all dissimilar to how she looked at Glenn when she thought no one was looking.

Felix can’t bear to be near Sylvain, because the loss of an older brother is still too fresh in his mind. (Felix won’t admit it out loud, but he thinks Miklan deserved it, because he was always a scumbag.) Besides, Sylvain has a different set of coping mechanisms- he’ll be in town picking up women in a few days and though Felix knows that’s terrible for him, it means he’s not dead, so that’s got to count for something.

He spots Gilbert idly conversing with Shamir, who looks as if she would rather be anywhere else in the world. It brings the man back into the forefront of his consciousness, so he returns to his room, and scribbles a message on a torn-up piece of parchment.

_Annette-_

_Meet me in the greenhouse as soon as you can._

_  
Felix_

The light is on in her room, bleeding out under the door as Felix slides the paper under. He scarpers quickly, in case she notices right away, and hides out in the greenhouse. He takes a seat on the edge of the flowerbed- it’s not comfortable in the slightest, but there’s nowhere else to sit and he has no idea how long he’ll be waiting. It’s oddly quiet in here, but Felix realises that it’s because Annette isn’t in here singing a strange song about mountains of cakes, or whatever the lyrics were. An odd song, but Felix can’t deny that the song is stuck in his head, and Annette’s dancing was kind of cute, too.

Goddess, what was wrong with him?  
  
The girl in question appears after not too long, trepidation clear on her face. She hesitantly takes a seat opposite him, and stares directly at him. Felix isn’t sure what to say, how to begin, so he stares back, until Annette cracks under the pressure.

“Listen, I know Sylvain calls random girls out at night, but I didn’t think _you_ were like that.”  
  
“What? No! That’s not what this is at all, Annette.”  
  
“Then what is it? Did you tell me to come here so you could remind me that this is where you heard me sing that song? You are truly evil, Felix!”  
  
“Is Gilbert your father?” He asks quickly, interrupting her string of nonsense. It works though, because Annette immediately clamps her mouth shut, and turns her gaze to her shoes.

“Yes,” she mumbles quietly, barely audible over the gentle breeze from the greenhouse door that she left open.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. Or… embarrassed, or whatever.”  
  
“I just don’t like him, so I don’t want to talk about him, Felix.”  
  
“I understand.” And he does, he really does, but he can’t explain that to Annette, lest he contradict himself. “Though, you should probably tell Ingrid and Mercedes that. They thought he was creeping on you because they saw him staring at you so much.”  
  
“Goddess, he just loves making my life really difficult, doesn’t he! Ugh!”

Annette rises to leave, and makes it as far as the greenhouse doors before swiftly marching back up to Felix. He knows she’s trying to be intimidating, but at barely five feet tall, and with her hair in pigtails, it’s not exactly effective.

“Don’t tell anyone else,” she hisses, before stomping away again. She pauses just outside the greenhouse, and turns back once again, this time illuminated by the moonlight behind her. It does something to Felix’s chest that he would rather not dwell on, now or ever. “Thank you for being so understanding.”  
  
It’s overly formal, too polite for two people who are supposedly friends, but he nods in return, understanding her sentiment anyway. Annette disappears from his view, leaving Felix alone with the plants and his thoughts.


	6. Horsebow Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you want?"
> 
> “I’d just like a quick word. If that’s okay with you. I know you hate me, but…”
> 
> “I don’t hate you. We’re friends, remember? I’m…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place after their B Support!

There are many places that Annette finds in the monastery to be calming, and until recently, the greenhouse was one of those. Now, the greenhouse is the place of two encounters with Felix that she would much rather forget about- first the time he heard her singing, and secondly when she stupidly assumed he was propositioning her. And why would he? He may know all of her secrets, but that doesn’t mean he’s in love with her.

Not that being propositioned involves love.

Not that she was being propositioned anyway.

Ugh.

She’s figured out a way to talk him into keeping her secrets, but what she really wants is for him to forget entirely about the whole event, and never speak to or even look at her again so she doesn’t have to be reminded about her embarrassment every time she sees him. But they have classes together every day, and she can hardly ask him to move classes. And then she’ll see him at church, or at dinner, so really, she’s cursed to a lifetime of embarrassment any time she even _thinks_ about him.

The plants in the greenhouse have been watered, the upstairs dormitory floors swept, the dining hall mopped. All Felix’s tasks for the day, completed by her, as a completely unashamed bribe. She waits patiently outside the greenhouse for him, and when he eventually appears, she just ends up embarrassing herself more.

Luckily, her room isn’t far away, and she can scarper before he says anything else to her. She can feel him staring at her, even as she closes the door behind her, and tries to stop the childish part of her brain from making her stomp her feet in frustration.

Why is he like this? If anyone else heard her singing, they probably would just laugh and that would be the end of it. But he _remembers_ when she talks about it, remembers the lyrics, and could probably sing them back to her. Annette wants the wooden floor of her dorm to swallow her up when she even thinks about the concept.

She can’t tell Mercedes about this if she can’t even think about it without feeling sick. She’s well aware that she’s being very dramatic about the whole situation, but that won’t stop her from panicking. Sometimes in class, she can feel Felix’s eyes boring into the back of her head, but when she turns around, he’s looking at the board with a neutral expression, and she wonders if she’s just imagining all this after all.

Her suspicions are made clear when Felix interrupts a magic training session, sitting on the side-lines as she casts wind spell after wind spell at Ingrid, who brushes off every blow before counterattacking with her lance. It’s a sight to behold- Annette knows that her spells are getting better and better by the day, and Ingrid is a strong opponent, as she seems to be able to fight through magic like it wasn’t cast at her at all.

It’s a successful training session though, if she does say so herself. She helps the Professor tidy everything away, and then as she’s leaving the training grounds, Felix pounces, hovering on his tiptoes beside her. Ingrid gives him an odd look, as does Annette herself, but he persists, and eventually, Ingrid disappears with a roll of her eyes, knowing better than to question Felix’s motives.

They begin to walk, because though he’s not saying anything yet, Annette knows Felix well enough to know that he doesn’t want to stay in one place at a time. They’re not really going anywhere in particular- through the courtyard, towards the gazebo, past the currently empty tables where students, clergy, and faculty alike take their tea in the afternoon.

“What do you want?” Annette says, probably too defensively for her own good.

“I’d just like a quick word. If that’s okay with you. I know you hate me, but…”  
  
“I don’t hate you. We’re friends, remember? I’m…”  
  
“Scared of me?” Felix asks, and when Annette meets his eyes and nods, his face falls a little. “You wouldn’t be the only one. I scare off a lot of people here, apparently.”

“I’m not scared of you personally. I don’t think you could really hurt a fly.”  
  
“I’ve killed people, Annette,” Felix retorts, looking rather offended.

“As have I. But I’m more scared that you’ll tell people about my songs. And other people will find out and laugh at me, because they’re silly songs about cake and dinner and bears and…”  
  
“I like them. I don’t think other people would laugh at you.”  
  
“Why are you like this?!” Annette practically explodes, not really caring if she draws attention to them. It’s late enough at night that most people have turned in, and the few that are still up are probably helping with the last of the chores for the day.

“Like what?” Felix asks, genuine confusion painted on his features.

“You’re always making fun of me! Saying you like my songs… saying my dancing is good! What is with you?”  
  
“I’m being honest,” Felix admits, stopping mid stride, causing Annette to stumble a few paces ahead. “They’re fun songs. The tunes get stuck in my head. And your dancing _is_ good. You’re very light on your feet.”  
  
Annette regards him for a moment, trying to tell if he truly is being sincere, or if this is all part of a larger joke at her expense. Knowing her luck, he’s already told Sylvain and Ingrid and Dimitri, and goddess, the idea of the Crown Prince of Faerghus knowing that she makes up funny little songs to entertain herself while she’s doing menial tasks sends shivers up her spine.

But Felix looks sincere- well, he at least looks less threatening than usual. There’s a hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth, and his eyebrows aren’t furrowed in annoyance. He holds himself differently- like he’s actively trying to come across as approachable in this moment. He doesn’t cross his arms or put his hands in his pockets, and Annette can see the twitching of his fingers, as if he’s itching to hold a sword.

“Okay,” she says eventually, breathing out a heavy sigh of relief. “Thanks, I guess. It’s a little weird that you would comment on it at all, but… well, I’m glad you enjoy them, even if they’re not very good.”  
  
“You’re not writing an opera, Annette,” he says, tutting under his breath as he takes a few steps forward and falls into step with her once more. “It doesn’t matter if it’s good. Do… do you want to be a songwriter?”  
  
“No… not really. It’s just for fun.”  
  
“Then it doesn’t have to be good. You can do things just for fun, and that’s okay.”  
  
“What do you do for fun, Felix? All you ever seem to do is train and complain about other people,” Annette asks, sparing an upwards glance in his direction just in time to see him roll his eyes.

“Training is fun.”  
  
“Are you sure? Like… do you not take time off to relax?”

“Sometimes I help clean some of the training hall weapons with Ferdinand. He thinks it’s important that we get along, since he’ll be the Prime Minister of Adrestia one day, and House Fraldarius is more or less second in command in Faerghus. I like… it’s relaxing, I guess.”  
  
“I heard that the professor is trying to recruit Ferdinand into our class,” Annette comments idly. “But yeah, that’s what I mean! It’s good to have other interests.”  
  
It’s not long until they find themselves outside the greenhouse, and for once, Annette doesn’t resent the place, and doesn’t resent Felix, because he really wasn’t making fun of her all this time. Annette can see her dorm from her, and continues to walk forward towards it, ready for bed without the worry of her song writing career being exposed to the entire Officer’s Academy.

“You two!” A voice yells across the courtyard, causing both teenagers to nearly jump out of their skins. They turn to see Seteth standing outside the dining hall, glaring at the two of them. “Should you not be in your rooms? The curfew is earlier now- it’s been over a week, so no excuses! Remember, until the villain that kidnapped Flayn is apprehended, it is not safe to be outside at night!”  
  
“Sorry, sir!” Annette calls, and picks up the pace, making for the dormitories, which really aren’t that far away from where they already are. She pauses by the doorframe, wondering how on earth she’s supposed to say goodnight to Felix without him being weird about it.

“We should have tea together sometime,” Felix says suddenly, and Annette turns to him only to find him staunchly avoiding her gaze.  
  
“Sure. We can talk more about things we find relaxing.”

“Cool. Whatever. See you tomorrow for class.”  
  
“Goodnight!”  
  
Before she can think to say anything else, he’s gone, disappeared up the stairs that lead to the first floor of dormitories. She wonders what all that was about, but really can’t find it in herself to care one way or another. Tea with Felix? What a strange prospect.

* * *

Annette loves tests. She loves exams, and the hours of studying that come before them. Byleth has finally confirmed who will be taking exams next month- herself, Ingrid, Dimitri, and Felix included in the bunch. They will be the first group to go through the third set of exams- the penultimate exam before they’re considered for master class certification in the month before graduation.

Normally, students prepare for the exam by studying the type of questions that will be on the certification. By practicing moves and spells and techniques that will be on the practical test- it’s not all written at this stage- you have to prove that you can put what you’ve learned into practice. But not Annette- Annette doesn’t study.

Annette has already memorised the format of every possible question, her form and incantation for each spell she could be asked to demonstrate. Months ago, if she thinks about it. She likes to be prepared, and while some would consider her over-prepared, Annette understands that she has to be this prepared in order to not only pass exams, but also to not die on the battlefield each month.

So she moves on, her sights set on the Gremory exam, now within her reach. She wonders, briefly, if she’s moving too fast. If she slow down, because she doesn’t _need_ to take the certification. She didn’t come here to be a soldier- she came here to find her father, and furthering her studies was just a bonus. But _Gilbert_ , or whatever he’s insisting on calling himself nowadays, is very clearly not interested in her. She’s not about to give up entirely, but there’s no point in tiring herself out when he still doesn’t care.

Pushing that self-doubt and anger to the very back of her mind, Annette resumes those Gremory studies, pushing herself further down the lanes of both Reason and Faith, though she has a lot of catching up to do in terms of healing magic, but she’s ready and willing to do all that work. Besides, Mercie is always there to help her, and she’s been a ready ear for Mercedes’ own questions about Reason magic- a skill she’s been learning, just in case.

Not only does studying Faith means she gets to learn a whole new arsenal of spells, albeit this time they’re defensive or healing rather than the overtly offensive Reason spells she’s used to. Casting Wind is a whole different ballpark to casting Physic. It’s even harder to practice, too- Wind spells she can just pick a spot and cast, but as healing spells require a specific target, it’s almost impossible to get experience off the battlefield.

Fridays are reserved for healing magic practice- that’s usually when Manuela expects the Knights of Seiros back from their missions, when she’ll need the most hands-on deck to help her. All students who are able to heal are supposed to attend, but Annette notices that Linhardt is absent most of the time (not really surprising, considering he’s already an expert, but disappointing nonetheless). Annette both enjoys and dreads these sessions- mostly because Mercedes and Marianne do most of the work, and she ends up standing there feeling a bit useless.

But she’s not useless, Manuela reminds her every week, because she’s cutting off blood loss and healing minor injuries and even resetting dislocations so that she and the others can focus on more serious, life threatening injuries. Annette has no idea how to deal with poisoning or patients with open fractures or worst of all- when they arrive with the weapon still sticking out of them- and sometimes, she wishes she didn’t have to learn at all.

She’s not squeamish for the most part, but there’s something about seeing someone’s internal organs on the outside of their body that just does not sit right with her.

It’s not until her father comes in one Friday afternoon with a suspected head injury that Manuela tuts about that Annette appreciates her role of bandaging patients after the others have already worked on them. Today, Linhardt turns up too, dragged by Manuela because she’s certain that something will go wrong. For once, the Black Eagles professor doesn’t even smell like alcohol- and that’s how Annette knows it’s going to be bad.

Annette holds eye contact with her father across the room, until he eventually breaks it, looking away, turning away, and letting Linhardt examine his head. Annette tries her hardest not to care- this man has ruined her life, so she thinks when she’s most angry at him, and yet he’s still her _father_. He did look after her for so many years of her life, when she was growing up, even if he did have to leave for Fhirdiad sometimes.

But when he ignores her like this, snubs her existence when she’s mere meters away, she just feels sad. For him, more than herself. Sad that he lives such a life, in fear, in shame, hiding out in a place like this because he’s too scared to face his family. Annette can’t even make herself be scary when she wants to be- how on earth is her own father scared to face her?  
  
She feels sad for her mother too, living in the house with her Uncle and Aunt and all those cousins. Her family, technically, but only through marriage. A marriage that may as well mean nothing when her husband abandoned her in self-penance for something that wasn’t his fault at all.

She tries not to feel sad for herself. She has a family that loves her, even if her father pretends that she doesn’t exist. She has friends here at the Officer’s Academy, forged friendships that she sincerely hopes will last long after graduation. She’s learned so much even in just six months under Professor Byleth’s teaching- including that she really doesn’t need a dad that doesn’t want her anyway.  
  
Annette turns her back on Gilbert Pronislav, and continues to do her job.


	7. Wyvern Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I knew you’d chicken out! But it was fine! That’s probably enough for today, though. We found your affinity!”
> 
> “And I nearly lost my hands.”
> 
> “No you didn’t!” Annette sighs, swatting at him gently.

When Byleth says something along the lines of “see me after class”, Felix thinks nothing of it. His test scores have been fine- nothing particularly amazing, but he’s nowhere near failing, and they don’t matter on the whole until the end of year exams, when he _will_ put in effort to get good grades, mostly so that he doesn’t have to listen to his father complaining about them when he returns home.

Felix isn’t particularly academically minded- he excels in the practical aspects of the class, but the writing is always more difficult. It’s hard to concentrate on the page for more than ten minutes at a time- he has no idea how Sylvain can just sit down and decide to write an essay in one go, and then get a good mark on it. If he were to do that, he’d be there for ten hours, and the results would be less than desirable.

When Byleth repeats her request a few days later, Felix actually hangs back at the end of the lesson. The first time, he assumed Byleth just wanted to catch up, maybe to spar, but he wasn’t in the mood, so he slipped out of the classroom before she noticed. But when she asks again, he begins to worry that he’s done something wrong. Byleth doesn’t look angry- but then again, she never seems to have any expression on her face.

“You haven’t submitted a proposal for a final exam,” she says plainly, and he raises an eyebrow.

“That’s in five months’ time. Do I really need to worry about it? I haven’t even taken the Advanced certification yet.”  
  
“Your exam is next week,” Byleth gently reminds him. “And Ingrid tells me you’ve been neglecting your bow training, so I’d make sure to work on that this week, so you don’t have to repeat the exam. You are the only student taking the advanced certification I’m worried about.”

“Seriously? Ugh, fine. I’ll pass, though. Don’t worry about me.”  
  
“Good. Back to your proposal… any ideas?”

“What are my options?” Felix doesn’t really care- he knows that his swordplay is good enough that he’ll never need to fall back on a second weapon.

“Limited, I’m afraid, due to your… over reliance on the sword.”  
  
“You use a sword,” he points out, and Byleth just stares at him blankly.

“And magic. And bows. And I can brawl. However, you barely use bows, and gave up on brawling after a few weeks, even though you were really good at it. Would you like to hear your options, or are you just going to argue with me?”

“Fine. What can I do?”

Byleth pulls out a heavy book out, scanning through it, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. It looks like a handbook for her- full of certifications, Felix assumes, when she turns the book around to face him and he can see various diagrams and drawings of people in different types of armour.

“Trickster is number one, I think. You’d have to learn both Reason and Faith magic, so you’d probably have to give up swords for now to get both of them down before the end of the year.”  
  
“No way.”

“Okay… Mortal Savant is the only one with swords as a focus. You’ll have to learn Reason, but you can keep up your physical training, as well as giving up on bows. If you pick this one, though, I’d like for you to still keep a bow on you for a while- magic can be difficult and tiring to use.”  
  
“Guess that works for me.” It’s not ideal- he’d wanted to be Swordsmaster the whole time, but Byleth didn’t even let him anywhere near the practice questions for the certification. If learning Reason was the only thing stopping him from having to give up the sword entirely (at least for the time being), then so be it.

“I will warn you, you’ll have to do a lot of practice on your own as well as likely devoting all practical class time to Reason. Have you ever tried your hand at it?”  
  
“No.”

“Then you’ll probably need someone who really knows their stuff to help you. I can’t solely tutor you as well as help all the other students, so it’ll be one of your classmates, if that’s okay with you?”  
  
“Sure. Whatever.” Felix tries to remain calm, but an image of ginger pigtails and soft blue eyes enters his mind unbidden, before he can even truly process the Professor’s words.

“Great. I’ll let you know tomorrow. Thanks for being so cooperative. Oh, wait a second…” she lifts a piece of parchment from her desk, and scribbles quickly, a list forming, as well as a pit in Felix’s stomach.

“I don’t expect you to read every single word of these, but they’re all in the library, and a good place for beginners. If they’re not there, ask around- Sylvain is likely to have them, or perhaps one of the students in another class.”  
  
“Great. Thanks.”

Byleth offers him some sort of half smile, and he stalks out of the classroom, not really ready to think about tutoring sessions and final year exams and having to go home.

* * *

Felix is barely surprised when Annette bounces up to him after dinner, and hesitates beside him for a moment before sitting beside him. He looks to her expectantly, but she seems to spend more time gathering her thoughts than actually speaking to him, as is happening now.

“So, the Professor told me you’re going to be learning Reason! You know, that’s great! Widening your horizons both academically and on the battlefield…”  
  
“Let me guess, she asked you to tutor me,” Felix says, and immediately feels bad when Annette’s face falls.

“Yes. Is that a problem? Because I haven’t said yes- I wanted to check with you first.”  
  
“It’s fine. I think you’d go easier on me than Lysithea. Or Hubert.”  
  
“Oh, Goddess forbid!” Annette whispers, looking absolutely scandalised at the idea. “I’m actually free tomorrow afternoon, if you want to begin then? I know it’s a Sunday, but…”  
  
“I guess. I’d probably be in the training grounds anyway.”  
  
“Great! I’ll let the professor know. There’s actually a supervised session on tomorrow, so we’ll be safe!”  
  
“Amazing.”  
  
“I’ll meet you after church then!”  
  
And then Annette is gone, before he has time to tell her that he has absolutely no intentions of being at church in the morning. He watches as she bounces away, leaving some sort of vanilla scent in her wake.

* * *

Felix does not go to church, ‘accidentally’ waking up too late, not giving him enough time to go the sauna and get dressed in time for the service. Instead, he waits for Annette outside the cathedral, spending a good twenty minutes watching nuns and monks and other clergy file out before anyone he actually recognises emerges. It’s Dimitri first, with an awkward looking Marianne by his side. Mercedes comes next alone, and then the choir, all talking loudly, until Annette spots Felix and waves him over.

She says a quick goodbye to her friends before falling into step with him. It’s a chilly morning, despite the time of year, and he swears he can see her shiver out of the corner of his eye. He should probably do something about that, he thinks, but no coherent thoughts form in his mind.

“I didn’t see you at the service this morning,” Annette says, managing to be both casual and accusatory at the same time.

“I slept in,” Felix excuses.

“Really? You never sleep in.”  
  
“I just didn’t want to go. Don’t like church, really. Don’t like having to listen to Lady Rhea ramble on for hours.”  
  
“It’s not hours,” Annette is quick to defend, but when Felix fixes her with a look of disbelief, she amends her statement. “Okay, sometimes it’s hours. And it really does feel like hours most weeks, to be fair.”  
  
“Do you believe in the Goddess?” Felix asks suddenly, and Annette misses a step, taken aback by the question. She’s silent for a moment, and Felix wonders if this is the time that he really has messed everything up. But when he braves a glance her direction, he can see the deep thought etched on her face, and instead of panicking, waits patiently for an answer.

“Sometimes,” is what she settles on. “I think the stories of the Goddess are very vague, so it’s really hard to tell what’s real and what’s not. There’s a lot of contradictions in the scriptures they read too, and… some other stuff I’ve noticed. I don’t know… mostly I just enjoy it because of getting to sing in the choir.”  
  
“Fair enough,” Felix agrees, finding her answer to be as logical as he could expect.

“Though Faith magic supposedly comes from asking the Goddess for help, and I haven’t exactly been able to find an explanation that has actual proof of an earthly, non-divine way that it can work, so… well, I guess that Elixirs and Vulneraries and Antitoxins heal in a similar way to Faith magic, so there must be some way to fix wounds without any need for the Goddess’s interference… sorry! I’m rambling so much, this must be so boring for you.”  
  
“Not at all. I’m glad my tutor is so knowledgeable.” It’s a genuine compliment, rare coming from him, and he’s not exactly sure why he said it. Annette seems to flush though, turning her face away from him in embarrassment, and it does something to his chest, similar to the feeling she gave him that night in the greenhouse.

“It’s nice that you think so. Um… after you,” she says, sidestepping to allow him into the training hall first.

It’s fairly empty, as he expected from a magic training session. Professor Hanneman is there, but he looks wholly uninterested, going through a large stack of papers Felix assumes to be essays or tests instead of supervising properly. Only Lorenz is here, casting spells at the walls and sighing loudly when they don’t go exactly to plan.

“Okay,” Annette says, taking a seat on one of the steps and patting the stone beside her for Felix to join her. “The Professor told me she gave you some books to read. Have you…”

“Read them? No. They’re not in the library at the moment, so I have to wait.”  
  
“That’s okay! I can more or less explain everything for a beginning session, I hope.”  
  
“I mean, that’s what you’re here for,” Felix says bluntly.

“Yeah! Um… I’m trying to think of a good starting point.”  
  
“What spell are you going to teach me?”

“Oh! Actually, talking about that is a good starting point,” Annette says, taking a second to smooth out her skirt and gather her thoughts. “Everyone who has an affinity for magic can be split into categories- either you’ll have a strong affinity for one element, or you’ll be able to cast more than one element, but likely at weaker amounts.

“For example, I have a strong affinity for Wind magic, and I can cast small spells for Fire and Thunder, and Blizzard if I _really_ have to. Mercie, on the other hand, can cast both Fire and Thunder properly. Does that make sense?”  
  
“I think so,” Felix mumbles. “So either, you’re really good at one, or you can do more than one decently?”  
  
“More or less. So, we need to figure out what you have an affinity for. There are massive spell lists in the books that the Professor recommended you, so have a look at those when you get the chance! For now… let’s have a go at cracking your first spell!”  
  
“How do we do that?”  
  
“Be patient! Let me explain, Felix.”

She gets to her feet, and before he has time to react, she’s grabbing his hands and dragging him up. She moves his arms outwards before she lets go of his hands, moving around behind him to adjust the position of his shoulders.

“You look really tense,” she evaluates when she moves back around in front of him. “Oh no, that was because of me, wasn’t it? You don’t seem like a touchy sort of person, I am _so_ sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Felix says stiffly. “Next time just tell me what to do.”  
  
“Okay,” Annette smiles, and that alone allows him to relax, just a little bit. “Move your feet so the left one is in front. We’re just going to practice static casting for now- once you’ve got that down, we can work on other stuff like one handed casting and moving. Keep your arms where they are!"  
  
“Now what, the magic just… magically appears?”  
  
“No! You have to feel a connection with the earth- that’s why it’s called Reason. The magic comes from inside you, yes, but you have to understand why it’s there to make full use of it. It’s kind of complicated, but if you read those books, you’ll get it.”  
  
“So you’re saying I have to read all those books?” Felix sighs. He hates reading almost as much as he hates writing- having to stay still for all that time drains him.

“Yes,” Annette says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you… struggle with reading?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Well, I find it really helpful to move around when I’m reading- so I’ll sit for five minutes, and then I’ll read with the book in my hand while pacing for five minutes, and then I’ll sit on the windowsill, you get me? I find it so hard to concentrate if I have to read a whole book.” There’s something in her tone that Felix doesn’t like- the implication that she doesn’t believe a word he’s saying to him.  
  
“You read whole books in one go?”

“Yes. Do you not?”  
  
“No. I read a chapter at a time, like normal people.”  
  
“Oh. Well! We’re off topic. You have to read the books, end of story.”

“Right… back to spell casting. What do I do now?” He feels a little silly just standing here, arms outstretched, shoulders held at an unnatural angle.

“Feel the energy from the earth. When I first learned to cast, it was kind of… anticlimactic. I spent so long concentrating on making anything come out of my hands, and then after ages it was just a teeny tiny gust of Wind. My mother was so pleased, but… anyway, back to you. Maybe try closing your eyes?”  
  
And Felix does just that. He can still feel Annette’s presence, hovering beside him, waiting for something to happen, just as he is. But nothing is just going to happen, he has to make it happen. So he concentrates- on his breathing, on keeping his stance, on relaxing, on feeling the blood flow around his body, until he feels something move towards his fingertips. But it doesn’t feel like magic- it feels like excruciating pain, and he drops his hands, opening his eyes.

“Shit, what was that?”

“That was so great, Felix!” Annette cheers.

“No, what the fuck, that was so painful!”  
  
“Oh. Um, give me your hands?”

Unlike last time, she offers, and Felix carefully places his hands atop hers, palm to palm. His fingertips feel like he’s fished a coal out of a burning fire, and there’s no sign that his spell casting actually worked. Annette’s palms glow green with healing magic, soothing the pain in a matter of seconds. He lifts his hands away to inspect them- there’s no sign of any damage, and the pain is gone.

“I’m not the best healer, so if it still hurts later, please go to Professor Manuela,” Annette apologises.

“No, it feels fine. You did a good job.”  
  
“Um, thanks! And so did you! You very nearly cast a Thunder spell!”  
  
“ _That’s_ what that was?” Felix asks incredulously. “It felt like my fingers were going to fall off.”  
  
“It’s a good job you stopped when you did. I’ve heard really horrible stories of people losing their hands when they cast the first time, or like, the skin peeling back because they cast for too long. Your self-preservation skills are great!” She seems so cheery, even though she just told Felix he’s lucky he didn’t lose a limb.

“Annette, what the absolute fuck, why didn’t you tell me that before?”  
  
“I knew you’d chicken out! But it was fine! That’s probably enough for today, though. We found your affinity!”  
  
“And I nearly lost my hands.”  
  
“No you didn’t!” Annette sighs, swatting at him gently. “Um… are you free during the week? Once you’ve given the books a go, I can help more. We can practice together!”

“Sure. No promises on reading everything.”  
  
“If you have questions, feel free to ask me any time! I’m in the library after class most days, so… yeah!”  
  
“I guess I’ll leave you to it then. You should get some training in. You know, while the grounds are relatively free.” It’s a bad excuse to leave- really he wants to go have lunch, and forget about the feeling of electricity coming from his fingers, and the feeling of Annette’s small hands on his shoulders.

“Oh, actually, I’m going to have lunch before I do some training. Um… I don’t suppose you’d like to join me? It’s just, Mercie went into town today, and Lysithea isn’t here, so I guess she’s on her way now, and…”  
  
“Sure, why not. You’re not force feeding me cake or anything, though.”

“I wouldn’t dare! I know you hate cake. Even if I think that’s really bad and proof that you’re a villain.”  
  
“Do you want me to have lunch with you or not?” Felix asks, raising an eyebrow and giving her a half smirk. It’s an empty threat- he finds himself wanting to spend as much time around her as possible at the moment.

“Oh please! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it at all! Please don’t leave without me, Felix!”


	8. Red Wolf Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover how Annette feels. At a whole five feet tall, she’s not particularly scary, nor does she have a strong presence on the battlefield. That’s part of what makes her so useful as a mage, though- her power with magic vastly outweighs how delicate she looks.

Annette is glad that she started running, and kept it up, when Byleth looks at her on the outskirts of Remire Village and declares her second in command for the upcoming battle.

Usually, Dimitri is second in command. But there’s something off today- everyone can tell, and as such Byleth hurriedly forms a new strategy that requires less of Dimitri’s input. He doesn’t even seem bothered by the changes, simply staring off into the distance in the direction of the village.

Annette finds herself by Byleth’s side as the Professor quickly explains what her new role entails. Essentially, she’s been promoted to General, and while Annette thinks it’s nice that her hard work is being rewarded, she does have to wonder if Byleth just went through the list of students alphabetically by first name and that’s why it’s her here, and not someone who is older and more experienced and better at this sort of thing like Sylvain.

She’s paying attention, though, as best she can, because if anything, this will be a good experience to draw on for her final exams. It’s something to write home about- her uncle and mother will be proud. Of course, this is all dependent on her doing a good job- if no one dies, no one is seriously injured, and they achieve their objective… well, only then will she be able to feel proud of herself.

Byleth splits her available units up into two halves- one to be commanded by Annette, and the other by herself. Mercedes goes with Annette while Flayn is given to Byleth, and the offensive attackers are split evenly- Dorothea with Byleth and Felix with Annette to balance the two halves.

Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover how Annette feels. At a whole five feet tall, she’s not particularly scary, nor does she have a strong presence on the battlefield. That’s part of what makes her so useful as a mage, though- her power with magic vastly outweighs how delicate she looks.

“Calm down,” Felix says, appearing from out of nowhere as she casts a particularly vicious wind spell at one of the village’s zombified inhabitants, saving one of the few who remained safe.

“I am calm,” she retorts. She’s not calm at all, but she can’t betray that emotion to those under her command. She’s just glad that the Professor chose to have Dimitri on her side of the field- one less complication for her to worry about.

“You barely hit that guy. I trust your decision making, but you should just… chill a bit.”  
  
“Thank you for that advice, Felix,” Annette says through gritted teeth. “You’re supposed to be watching the backlines, not making me doubt- I mean, not doubting every single one of my actions!”

Felix raises an eyebrow, but he stays in place and allows Annette to pass him. The battlefield is wide and long, and she’s a little ashamed to admit she’s lost track of Sylvain and Ferdinand, lost somewhere in the midst of the chaos. She can see Ashe to her left- at least he’s still doing his job. There’s no point in worrying too much, though- Mercedes probably has eyes on them, and that’s more important.

It’s a bit of a strange formation, Annette has to admit, but it’s what Byleth told her to do, and Annette knows that her teacher does know what she’s doing- this is now their eighth battle, and no one has been badly injured or died, so she can put her full trust in the Professor. With Sylvain and Ferdinand on the front lines, and Ashe and herself behind as long distance attackers.

She’s well aware that Felix doesn’t like being on the backlines- he believes he belongs on the frontlines, and while that’s probably true, Byleth has pointed out that he needs the experience gained from fighting on different positions on the battlefield. Mercedes seems to be keeping him calm- despite the situation, even Annette feels calmed by her voice, making idle chitchat about how terrible this is, and what on earth actually happened here?

Annette casts another Cutting Gale at another enemy- he staggers, but doesn’t fall, and before she can blink, he’s charging towards her at an alarming speed. Clearly whatever has done this to these people has also bypassed the part of their brain that allows them to only do things they are physically capable of, and she’s lucky that Ferdinand steers his horse around to run his lance through the zombie’s stomach.

With a quick nod, Ferdinand disappears again, and Annette continues onward, casting both offensive and healing spells as they make their way closer and closer to the heart of the village. She assumes that’s where the source of this mess will be, but since they don’t actually know what’s going on, she has to remain on her guard at all times.

“General!” Mercedes calls, and Annette falls back momentarily. Mercedes is grinning, though her face falls back into seriousness quickly. “Sorry, I’m just trying to lighten the mood. I have news from the Professor.”  
  
“Oh? O-okay, what is it?”  
  
“The Death Knight is here. He’s on the other side of the field, but since he seems to be able to teleport… be careful, Annie.”  
  
There’s something entirely unreadable on Mercedes’s face, and expression Annette hasn’t seen on anyone’s face before, never mind Mercedes. But she nods, briefly, trying to quell the feeling of a mass of butterflies that have settled in her stomach. The Death Knight has only been trouble before, and took Byleth to beg Lysithea for her help in order to defeat him to save Flayn. And oh Goddess, Flayn is on that side too…

“She also said you’ll probably have to deal with Tomas…”  
  
“Tomas?” Annette asks, picturing the librarian from the monastery, who has only ever been kind to them for their time there.

“Yes… from Garreg Mach. He’s been missing, remember? And… well, he’s turned up here, commanding the troops, if you can really describe them as that…”  
  
“Okay, Mercie. We can do this.”

“That’s the spirit, Annie!”

Annette surges forward, revigorated with the determination to succeed at her mission. She didn’t _want_ to kill Tomas, but if he was to blame for causing this mess, then perhaps that’s how it had to be. Annette notices as they approach the town centre that there are less villagers attacking them, and more soldiers- people with real weapons- bows and lances and a mage, and as she pushes forward, she can see Tomas.

She commands her units to stop, take stock, take a moment for Mercie and herself to heal any minor injuries. It’s calm for the six of them in this moment, hiding behind the ruins of what was probably someone’s home last week. Annette just hopes that the monastery helps the few survivors of this whole mess- it’s not like they can live here anymore, nor would she blame them if they never wanted to come back again.

Tomas is muttering, and Annette can’t exactly make out what he’s saying over the sounds of the battle raging on the other side of the village, presumably against the Death Knight. Mercedes still has that odd look on her face, her hands clasped in front of her in prayer. Annette turns her attention to Tomas just in time to see him cloaked in magic- she jumps to her feet but Sylvain’s hand on her wrist pulls her back down to the safety of the crumbling wall.

“What’s the plan?” Asks Ferdinand. Annette peers through a crack in the wall to see that the Tomas she knew is gone, replaced by a man yelling that his name is Solon, and admitting that he is the reason Flayn was kidnapped.

Annette runs through a million possibilities in her head- truly, this sort of occasion is exactly why they’ve been training in the first place. She _knows_ battle strategy like the back of her hand, but now that she actually has to apply her knowledge, her mind has gone blank. The Professor is still fighting on the other side, and Annette realises she doesn’t even know _how_ to give orders. But these are her peers, and she respects them as much as they respect her, so she just has to put her trust in them.

“Okay,” she begins, slowly, trying to give her brain an extra few seconds to catch up. “Ashe, there’s no way you can get him from here?”  
  
“No, I’d need to be a bit closer. If I can get to that tree,” he says, pointing sideways, “I can probably get a good angle on his defence, though.”  
  
“Great. Um… there’s enough of us that we can probably charge them. I know it sounds dangerous, but…”  
  
“Probably our best bet,” Sylvain agrees, and his approval means more than Annette can explain.

“I’ll take the lance user, Ferdinand, the bow user. Sylvain and Felix, if you can team up on Solon and the mage at the back, and Ashe take the mage at the front. Mercie… make sure we don’t die! And please use magic if it looks bad.”  
  
“Got it!” Mercedes chimes, and that smile on her face makes Annette think that she’s probably done a decent job at explaining, if nothing else.

“Everyone okay with that plan?” Annette asks, and looks around nervously only to be met with five nods. “On my count, then.”  
It’s something she’s seen the Professor do in situations like these- when they’re stuck, cornered, but they haven’t far to go. Annette gives the nod to Sylvain, who jeers his horse forward, giving Ashe cover to get to the tree he can make his shot from. He only looses two arrows, both of them hitting the mage, causing her to collapse. Annette doesn’t care if she’s dead or not- she gives the signal to Felix and Ferdinand, and follows the two of them into the fray, Wind spells already tingling her fingertips as she locks her eyes onto her target.   
  
Sylvain has already reached Solon, and dodges spells from the other mage as he takes swipes at Solon, narrowly missing every time. Solon isn’t fast, so Sylvain must be doing it on purpose. Annette’s suspicions are confirmed when Sylvain twirls his lance in a half circle and spears the dark mage through the chest, allowing Felix to sprint forward and start on Solon himself.

Ferdinand takes out the archer with ease, at the same time that Annette casts Excalibur at the lancer. Both enemies fall, and Annette turns her attention to Solon. He’s casting something Annette has never seen before- something purple and black, something smoky, something that’s making the air around them buzz, something Annette does not like. It’s black magic, that much is clear, and she doesn’t know enough about it to know how to counter it.

“Felix, get out of the way!” She yells, hoping that even if he doesn’t listen to her as a commander, he’ll listen to her as a friend. But Felix doesn’t listen at all, and ducks lower to take a slice out of Solon’s leg. Solon falls to one knee, but the spell persists, and before anyone else has a chance to respond, Felix is caught up in the spell, purple tendrils lifting him from the ground before throwing him away.

Annette doesn’t even need to think to react- running towards him, Mercedes hot on her heels. There’s no way she’ll catch him, but that’s okay- he’s going to need some serious healing after whatever that was. She looks over her shoulder, not stupid enough to entirely abandon the situation that she’s supposedly in charge of. She sees Sylvain drive his lance through Solon’s chest with no flourish, and an arrow fly into his skull seconds later. If Solon wasn’t dead now, Annette has no idea if he ever would be.

Felix is crumpled against the wall they were hiding behind just a minute ago, and Annette falls to her knees by his side. She’s well aware now that he’s not a touchy person, but checking his pulse is more important than that. One of her hands goes to the side of his neck, the other lifting his wrist, and relief washes over her when she realises that his heart is still beating- she hasn’t lost him yet.

Mercedes’s hands are already glowing green when she joins them, carefully placing them on the spots where Felix’s uniform is burned, singed an unnatural purple colour, just like the magic that took him. Annette leaves them for just a moment, turning to see Solon teleporting away, just as the Death Knight did those few months ago.

“What…”  
  
“I’m sorry. I thought we got him!” Sylvain says, tying his horse up and all but sprinting towards her. “He… he was shot through the head!”

“You’d think that would kill someone, wouldn’t you…”

“How’s Felix?” Sylvain asks, worry evident in his voice.

“Alive,” is all that Annette can answer- she really doesn’t know much more than that.

She makes her way back over to where Mercedes is, the whole battlefield now eerily silent. With a nod to Ferdinand and Ashe, she sends them to find the Professor- presumably they’ve wrapped things up over there too. Sylvain looks on in horror as Felix lies, unmoving.

“Felix,” Mercedes calls, in that well practiced healer voice. “Felix, can you hear me?”

No response.

“Felix?” she tries again, and the glow on her hands grows to a stronger green. “I don’t know what that spell has done to him,” she admits, looking first to Annette, and then to Sylvain. “I’ve never seen anything like it. But he’s not dead, and his breathing and pulse seem steady… I think the quicker we get him back to the monastery, the better. Manuela can have a look at him.”

“Do you think she’ll know what to do?” Sylvain asks, bending down to lift Felix- Annette can already hear him complaining.

“It’s more likely, yes. I haven’t really come in contact with black magic before… only in small amounts- nothing like this.”

Sylvain carries Felix to his horse, and balances him carefully against the creature’s neck. He walks beside the horse back to the entrance to the village, before the Professor meets up with them and points Sylvain towards the wagon with the medical supplies in it. Flayn follows them- Annette admits that she wouldn’t have thought of Flayn as someone who might know how to solve this problem.

“Everything go okay?” Byleth asks quietly.

“Aside from Felix… I think so. Solon got away, though. We have no idea how he’s still alive.”  
  
“We can talk about it when we’re back at the monastery. Good job, Annette.”

* * *

Annette realises very quickly that she’s never had a one on one meeting with Byleth, and even though she knows she’s not in trouble, she can feel her stomach drop. Byleth doesn’t even sit at her desk, instead sitting at the desk that Ingrid and Ashe usually share, a map set out in front of her. She doesn’t seem to hear Annette come in, so she clears her throat, and the Professor turns around, the hints of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Annette,” she says, no hint of anger in her voice. “Come join me.”  
  
Annette scurries across the classroom, taking the seat beside Byleth. The Professor’s brow is furrowed, drawing lines and scribbling what Annette assumes is supposed to be words on the map.

“You did a great job today,” Byleth says, setting down her quill.

“But, I-“  
  
“I know you’re going to say Felix got injured badly. And he did, but he’s going to be okay. Your classmates told me you told him to get out of the way and he didn’t listen, so frankly, that’s his fault, not yours.”

“Professor!” Annette whispers, scandalised. Is this how she talks to the other faculty when they’re not around?  
  
“No one died, Annette. You were thrown into a situation just before it happened with barely any time to prepare, you followed my orders, and managed to come up with a solution to a problem that arose without any help from anyone else. I’d say, for a first go, you did an amazing job.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yes. Now, I have no idea what all exactly you did, but from what your peers told me, you applied everything that we’ve covered in class thus far, and they all said that they thought you were really helpful. Obviously I haven’t spoken to Felix yet, but…”  
  
“I feel really bad about that,” Annette admits. “I know you said it’s not my fault, but I _did_ tell him to attack Solon.”  
  
“And if he didn’t listen to your command to fall back, that’s him being a bad unit. You always fall back when you’re told, Annette. Some people don’t listen to orders, and that’s why Felix still has a lot to learn.”

“Oh. Well… I get that, I suppose. I’m just glad you thought I did a good job honestly. I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous in my life,” Annette admits. Byleth’s hand comes down heavy on her shoulder, warm in a way Annette hasn’t felt in years.

“You’re probably my most capable out of all my students,” Byleth says, and Annette finds herself warm with embarrassment. “But don’t tell the others. You’re going to go far, Annette, with whatever you choose to do when you leave here. And your essay on this is going to be excellent, if you’re going to write it for the finals.”  
  
“I really don’t know what else I could even write about. Thanks so much for this opportunity, Professor. It means a lot that you picked me.”  
  
“Of course. And thanks for your help today. I don’t know where we’d be without you.”

Feeling more than a little pleased with herself, Annette leaves the Blue Lions classroom and heads towards the infirmary. Mercie will be there, but she really hopes to see Felix, and wonders if he’s doing any better than when he was loaded into the medical cart and driven back to the monastery at top speed.

Manuela doesn’t look particularly pleased that she’s asking to come in so late, but she sighs, mumbling something under her breath about needing a drink. When Annette slips into the room, two pairs of eyes fall on her- Mercedes, sitting on the windowsill, chatting idly to Felix, who quickly turns his head to see her. He looks a little worse for wear, but a lot less bad than Annette expects. Mercedes gets up from the windowsill, smoothing out her skirts.

“Manuela broke the curse easily, so he should be okay, but she’s keeping him in here overnight, just in case,” Mercedes explains. “I’m sure you want to talk to him, so I’ll leave you to it.”

There’s something almost teasing in Mercedes’s tone, something that Annette doesn’t much like. Regardless, she crosses the room, taking up Mercie’s former watch as the older woman closes the door. Felix looks exhausted up close, but he’s less grumpy looking than usual too.

“How are you feeling?” Annette asks, feeling a bit useless that she hasn’t really done anything for him- she’s been run off her feet since returning to the monastery earlier.

“Like hell. But less hell than earlier.”  
  
“I’m glad you feel… less bad, at least.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to your orders. Byleth yelled at me earlier about it, and it really was an asshole thing for me to do.”  
  
“I’m sorry that I put you in that position in the first place. If I didn’t do that, you would’ve been safe, and…”  
  
“There’s no way you would’ve known. Manuela says it’s a common curse that knocks you out, but if you haven’t seen them before, it would scare you. So… I don’t blame you. Not at all, Annette.”  
  
There’s something about the way he says her name that intrigues her- softer than he would say Ingrid, or Sylvain, gentler than the way he sighs Mercedes. It’s something that scares her almost as much as seeing his body thrown fifty feet through the air, so she tightens her hands into fists, and tries to avoid looking at that gaze.

“Well, I just came by to check that you’re still alive,” Annette says, fishing for excuses to leave. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”  
  
“Me too.”  
  
“See you later, Felix.” She gets as far as the door before he calls out to her.  
  
“Wait!”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“Thanks for coming to visit me.”  
  
His words are sincere, even if he stares out the window, through the spot where she sat seconds before. Annette nods, letting herself smile, letting herself relax for the first time since they left in the wee hours of the morning.

“Good night, Felix.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annette cool... I love her a lot ;;


	9. Ethereal Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are a most excellent dancer,” Flayn whispers eventually. “I did not think that you would be so graceful!”
> 
> “Uh. Thanks?”
> 
> “You are most welcome, Felix. I am glad that you are my partner!”

When Felix walks into the Blue Lions classroom for the monthly cultural class and sees the tables pushed to the sides of the room, the seats arranged in a large circle, his stomach drops. He _knows_ what this is, before Byleth even enters the room. Felix sits in a seat that he approximates is close to his usual seat, rolling his eyes when Sylvain flops beside him.

“Are you going to save a dance for me at the ball?”  
  
“Fuck off.”  
  
“Aww, Felix, I thought you liked me. Good job I can dance with Ingrid instead.”  
  
“I think you’ll find that Ingrid will give you the same answer.”

“Do you think this is dance lessons, though? I’m not a great dancer, and I’m not sure I want to embarrass myself in front of the Professor,” Sylvain sighs, tying his fingers in knots.

“Probably. But would you rather embarrass yourself in front of us first or just straight in front of the whole school?”  
  
“You’re right,” Sylvain sighs. “I just hope the Professor doesn’t make me dance with her. She may be really pretty, but she’s also terrifying.”  
  
“Who are you talking about?” Mercedes asks, taking up the empty seat beside Felix, and leaning much too close into his personal space for his liking.

“Professor Byleth.”  
  
“Oh, she is pretty! But she’s not scary at all- you just need to get to know her better. She’s probably one of the kindest people I know.” Mercedes smiles, and Sylvain just raises an eyebrow.

“You know, I’ll just say I believe you, because I have no evidence on the contrary.”

“I really wish you would think about things other than women,” Felix sighs, leaning back in his chair.

Byleth enters the room, shrugging her cloak off and hanging it on the back of her chair. For once, she doesn’t have the Sword of the Creator with her, nor does she carry any books. She leans on the desk, surveying the room as the last few students enter the room. Annette practically skips in, taking her seat beside Mercedes, followed by Ferdinand, who loudly apologises for being late.

“Okay, now that we’re all here… as you know, the White Heron Ball is tomorrow. I was supposed to teach you all to dance two weeks ago, but I only taught Dorothea so she’d win the Cup, which she did. So… today is dance lessons. Get up.”

Byleth speaks as plainly as ever, and Felix’s feet feel heavy as he drags himself up. He’s been dreading the possibility of this for weeks, ever since the ball was announced. And truthfully, it didn’t surprise him that Byleth completely forgot that she was supposed to run this class.

“I’ve paired everyone up by height, though since there’s eleven of you, I’ve had to factor myself into my equations. When I call your name, please partner up and take a space away from everyone else.”  
  
Ashe and Annette are first, and Felix can’t help but feel a little annoyed that he has Flayn bouncing in front of him instead of Annette, even though Flayn is so much shorter than him and Annette is too but at least Annette is his friend and he’s not annoyed by her.

Things are much more interesting on the other side of the classroom, though- Ingrid looks absolutely horrified that she has to dance with Sylvain, while Dimitri is apologising to Mercedes already for holding her hand too tightly. Ferdinand pairs with Byleth, and looks embarrassed to be in such close contact with her.

Felix has danced before, though he never was particularly gifted at it, nor did he feel the need to ever dance again. At least Flayn seemed to know how to dance too- he never stands on her feet, and she twirls under his arm when Byleth calls them to. She doesn’t really talk either, but Felix reckons she’s probably thinking of more things to throw at him.

“You are a most excellent dancer,” Flayn whispers eventually. “I did not think that you would be so graceful!”  
  
“Uh. Thanks?”  
  
“You are most welcome, Felix. I am glad that you are my partner!”

He’s not really sure how to react to that, so he keeps his mouth closed, stepping carefully around Dorothea and Dedue in time with Byleth’s counting. As soon as her counts stop, Felix lets go of Flayn like he’s been burned, and bows deeply as he knows he’s supposed to.

“Okay, that’s it,” Byleth says. “If anyone wants to swap partners for a livelier dance, go ahead.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Felix sees Ingrid purposely step on Sylvain’s foot- no doubt he said something to her that she didn’t like. She makes her way over to him, and while he really doesn’t want to dance again, Ingrid is already negotiating with Flayn to practice with Sylvain. Sylvain doesn’t look wounded, though- he joins up with Dorothea as Dedue is invited to dance by Mercedes. Flayn and Annette make a good pair too, giggling as Byleth begins to clap the beats out once more.

“You’re a better height for dance practice for me,” Ingrid tells him. He’s more comfortable with her, probably for that exact reason, as well as knowing her for a much longer time than anyone else.

“You can just say you hate Sylvain; I won’t tell him.”  
  
“I don’t _hate_ Sylvain. He’s just very… forward. All the time.”

Ingrid and he are doing a good job at the faster footwork on this, though he would never admit that out loud. They’ve trained together enough times to be used to how the other moves, and the same principles from sparring can be applied to dancing, Felix figures.

“Are you taking anyone to the ball?” Ingrid asks casually, looking over his shoulder.

“No,” Felix answers, far too quickly. “Are you?”  
  
“No. Do you want to go with me? You can save me from Sylvain dancing with me.”  
  
“You don’t like me any more than you like Sylvain,” Felix points out. “How is dancing with me any better than dancing with him?”  
  
“You’re not going to tell me that I might actually look pretty in my formal uniform if I let Annette put makeup on me.”  
  
“He really can be a scumbag,” Felix sighs. “Fine then. I’ll go with you, but I’m not promising you a dance. Just that I’ll not let you dance with him.”  
  
“You might have to dance with him instead,” Ingrid teases, that usual grin on her face.

“Spare me.”

* * *

Dressed in his formal uniform and with his hair restyled into a neat ponytail, Felix waits at the bottom of the stairs for Ingrid. The night is cold- that’s what he gets for venturing outside for non-exercise purposes during the Ethereal Moon. He supposes it could be worse- his birthday month back in Fraldarius always manages to bring a thick blanket of snow.

“Oh, you are here. I thought you would’ve gone on without me,” Ingrid says, running the last few steps to catch up with him. She’s not wearing any makeup- Felix is almost relieved, because he knows she hates garnering any unwanted attention.

“You know I keep my word.”  
  
“That you do, Felix.”  
  
She links his arm through his even though he doesn’t offer it, but she’s probably the only person that can touch him without him freezing up completely. She leads him towards the Reception Hall- lit up with candles tonight, bright lights that casts the room in a way that Felix would never have expected to see it.

He and Ingrid line up on one side of the room, and Sylvain is quick to spot them and dash in between the already dancing couples on the dance floor to join them. Felix notices Dimitri and Edelgard both dancing with people he doesn’t recognise, as well as the Professor dancing with Claude, though he’s not convinced she’s actually enjoying herself.

“I know you said you wouldn’t dance with me,” Ingrid asks quickly, spotting the redhead approaching them, “but is there any chance you’ve changed your mind?”  
  
“Should we not wait until it’s more… socially acceptable? I mean, it’s just the house leaders at the minute.” It’s a thinly veiled excuse- Felix has never cared about social etiquette- he just really doesn’t want to dance.

“Oh, come on! You’re going to be the next Duke Fraldarius, woe betide us all. If you go, Ferdinand and Lorenz will go, and you won’t look stupid.”

Felix casts his eyes towards the approaching Sylvain and Ingrid, practically bouncing on her toes. He has no idea why Ingrid has decided now of all times to have a personal vendetta against Sylvain, but he chooses to help her, and with a roll of his eyes, he holds his hand out to her.

Her hand falls into his quicker than he’s ever seen Ingrid move in his whole seventeen years of knowing her, and he leads her onto the dancefloor. His free hand rests on her waist while her other hand goes to his shoulder. He should be leading this dance, but she spins him away from where Sylvain ended up in a series of fast turns, his feet barely keeping up with the rest of him.

“Care to explain what’s going on with you two?” Felix asks, when they’re far enough away from the other party. To his horror, Ingrid was right- Ferdinand and Lorenz _have_ taken to the floor with their own partners- a grinning Petra, pulling Ferdinand along far too quickly, and Marianne, who looks more uncomfortable than Felix feels.

“He asked me out. And he _meant_ it, Felix. Says he’s had a crush on me for so long. I reminded him that he flirted with my poor grandmother that one time, and he said it was a joke. I _know_ it’s a coping mechanism for him but seriously, it worries me.”  
  
“Do you like him?” Felix asks, not really caring to find out the answer. He has his suspicions, based on the time he spotted them together after Miklan died, but he’s never been brave enough to confront either of them.

“No.”  
  
“Oh. Well, there you go.”  
  
“I don’t… ugh, I can’t believe I’m telling you this, of all people. I don’t like men at all.”  
  
“ _Oh_ ,” Felix repeats, and things make more sense all of a sudden. “I get it. But I don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me. We’re friends.”  
  
“You hate calling me your friend.”  
  
“I like you though. Ugh. That’s embarrassing.”  
  
“I really appreciate that, Felix. But don’t tell anyone. I want to tell people on my own terms.”  
  
“You say that as if I care enough to blab to other people.”  
  
“You are a good secret keeper,” Ingrid admits, meeting Sylvain’s eyes over Felix’s shoulder.

“I will say, you probably owe it to Sylvain to tell him, though. He… he’ll definitely understand. And probably try to set you up with someone.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Ingrid pauses in thought, her feet carrying her around in a circle when the dance calls for it. “I… I hope you don’t think bad of me because of Glenn. I did love Glenn. The same way I love you. In an entirely non-romantic way.”  
  
“Um. Okay.”  
  
“Sorry to bring him up,” she sighs. “It’s been weighing on my mind for a while.”  
  
“I understand,” Felix answers, though his throat feels dry, and he’s quite glad that the dance is over now. He and Ingrid both bow to each other, and as they leave the floor, Sylvain catches up with them, Ingrid staunchly ignoring him and marching away with nary a word to Felix.

“She’ll tell you later,” Felix explains, hating having to be the one to intervene in an argument between them.

“Ugh, I don’t know what I did. She’s been so moody with me all week.”  
  
“You really don’t ever think about anything, do you? Maybe if you talked to her like a real person like everyone else does, you’d understand that,” Felix snaps, feeling strangely defensive over Ingrid all of a sudden. Perhaps it’s the reminder that that’s what his brother would do for her- or maybe it’s just that they’ve been friends for so long and he knows she would do the same for him.

Sylvain is silent as the two take a seat, watching the ball continue in front of them. Felix crosses his arms, a surefire way of letting Sylvain know that he’s annoyed (though he’s certain his friend is well aware). Currently, Claude has swapped Byleth for Hilda, and the two are giggling in the middle of the dancefloor, barely managing to do the steps right and drawing a lot of attention to themselves.

Edelgard and Hubert seem to have taken this as a personal challenge, and are getting through the waltz with precise steps, faces stern and serious, with Hubert casting occasional glances in the direction of the Golden Deer’s leader. Dimitri is dancing with Mercedes in a much more elegant waltz, wildly different from the other house leaders, as if they’re not aware of what else is going on. Felix thinks he spots Ferdinand and Lorenz dancing together as well, deeming their previous partners just not good enough.

If Mercedes is here, Felix’s brain supplies, then that must mean Annette is here too. He scans the room for her- subtly, so Sylvain won’t notice- and spots her across from them and a little to the left. When his eyes fall on her, he notices her hair is down- it’s a lot longer than it looks in the pigtails she usually wears it in. She makes eye contact with him and waves- he raises a hand slightly in acknowledgement, while Sylvain waves just as enthusiastically back.

“Aw, Annette looks nice with her hair like that, don’t you think?”  
  
“Do you just judge women on what their hair looks like?”  
  
“I judge men on it too, and Felix, I’m really digging this long ponytail look on you. You look very put together.”  
  
Felix can’t even tell if he’s being serious or not, so he elects to ignore Sylvain and go back to staring into the distance and counting down the minutes until he’s allowed to leave. Unfortunately for him, the distance now contains Annette, and he can’t help but stare at her instead of somewhere nondescript, because Sylvain was right after all- Annette’s hair _does_ look nice like that.

But Felix thinks she looks nice anyway.

The thought pops into his head unbidden, and he promptly chases it away by furrowing his brow more and concentrating on Ingrid, who twirls across the floor with Dorothea. He can’t stop the smile that tugs at the edge of his lips at the sight- though he isn’t convinced he would’ve ever thought of Dorothea as Ingrid’s type.

Sylvain disappears momentarily, and for those few minutes, Felix wonders if he’ll get some peace- if even he’s managed to bore Sylvain into leaving him alone. He’s surprised Sylvain hasn’t danced himself- usually, there would be girls lining up to dance with him. But he returns seconds after Felix has this thought, with two glasses of punch, handing one across to Felix.

“Why have you brought me this?” Felix asks, swirling the suspicious smelling liquid around the glass.

“We’re sitting at the ball, two attractive guys, not able to dance with anyone because no one likes us.”  
  
“No one likes you because you’re a philanderer,” Felix says honestly, taking one sip of his drink and deciding that there’s no way in hell he’s drinking a whole glass of whatever it is.

“You’d think that there’d be a few people that didn’t know or didn’t care, right?”

“No. You deserve this.”

“You’re right, Felix. Maybe I should go find Ingrid? She must be finished dancing now, right?”  
  
With the way he’s talking, Felix wonders how many glasses of punch Sylvain had before he and Ingrid arrived- several, if his tone is anything to go by. Ingrid is long gone from her dance with Dorothea, but Dorothea is now dancing with Ferdinand. Ingrid is probably sitting down somewhere else, probably with Leonie or Lysithea- people who won’t annoy her in the same way Sylvain is about to if Felix doesn’t keep him in his seat.

“I really don’t think she wants to talk to you right now. Wait until the end of the night, idiot.”  
  
“Is she going to confess her love to me?” Sylvain asks, and once again, Felix isn’t sure if he means it or not.

“I really doubt it.”  
  
“Maybe I can convince Lady Rhea to dance with me.”  
  
“Definitely not. Can you not stay in your seat for five minutes?”

“Felix, maybe you could dance with me.”  
  
“Not a chance.”  
  
“No, I guess not, because you’ve been staring across at Annette all evening.”  
  
“I have not,” Felix rebuts, but it’s true, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, neither to himself nor to Sylvain.

“Just ask her for a dance, Fe. Someone deserves to have a good time at this ball. I promise I’ll stay in my seat until you come back.”  
  
Felix looks from Sylvain to Annette and spots Ingrid in between, sitting on her own with a glass of the punch that Felix doesn’t think is even remotely what the church put out for them. He catches her eye and nods his head in Sylvain’s direction, and with a sigh, she gets up, heading in their direction.

“Okay, I’ll… ask Annette. One dance, just to make you shut up.”  
  
“That’s the spirit, Felix!”  
  
He’s glad to leave the man’s company, because every moment spent with Sylvain when he’s like this is just another reminder of how bad his mental state is. And of course it’s not Sylvain’s fault, but it’s really tiring when his phases are becoming more and more frequent and Felix really doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say in order to be helpful. And it’s just as bad when he can see Dimitri going even further down a road he doesn’t want to think about.

So instead, he stands awkwardly beside Annette, hands behind his back, until she motions for him to sit down, a huge grin on her face. She seems to have been sat here a long time, but it doesn’t seem to have lessened her pep one bit.

“Have you danced at all?” Felix asks, which is not the question he really meant to ask.

“No,” Annette answers, her voice hiding sadness that Felix swears he can hear. “No one has asked me, and… well, I can see why no one would want to dance with me when there are people like Hilda and Dorothea and Mercie too here…”  
  
“I want to dance with you,” Felix states quickly, and Annette leans back from him, a little surprised. “I mean, only if you want to dance with me.”

“I’d like that,” she says. Felix swears she’s blushing, but puts it down to a track of the light, because there’s no way that…

He pushes more unwanted thoughts from his head as he gets up, offering her his hand as he knows he’s supposed to. Unlike Ingrid, Annette places her hand in his gently, her hands small and warm within his own. He can feel his heart rate spike, another unwanted reaction to Annette’s presence. She smiles up at him when they reach the dancefloor, taking her free hand and stretching up to his shoulder.

She’s very short, he notices all of a sudden, and when his hand goes to her waist, he involuntarily pulls her closer- just so they can do the steps better, he reminds himself, and for no other reason. The music begins, and this time he remembers to lead, pushing and pulling Annette, twirling her around, just like the Professor taught them.

“I like… I like your hair like that,” Felix says eventually, the silence between them overwhelming.

“Oh! Thank you. It took _hours_ to do. Your hair is nice too! It suits you like that. You look very… serious. But I suppose you are very serious.”

“I guess. This sort of thing is weird to me.”  
  
“Me too!” Annette agrees. “I mean, it’s fun! But I am way out of my comfort zone. House Dominic never really hosted any balls, or were invited to attend any.”  
  
“I’ll make sure you’re on the invite list for the next House Fraldarius ball, then. You’d enjoy that, probably.”

Felix has no idea what he’s talking about- there hasn’t been a ball at House Fraldarius since Glenn died, and he can’t see his father planning another one any time soon, what with him being here and there not being anyone else to show off. Felix briefly ponders if, like House Galatea, his father will try to arrange a marriage for him- though at least he won’t have to leave the place he knows so well.

“You’re a good dancer,” Annette compliments. “But you should be more fun. Like, did you see Petra and Ferdinand earlier? She was doing all these spins and stuff, it looked really cool.”  
  
“I don’t… don’t really know how to dance. Especially not spins. But I guess I can try.”  
  
The song begins to come to a close, and Felix spins Annette three times, rather than the usual one, causing her to come back into his arms in a fit of giggles. That seemed to be what she meant, and so he smiles down at her, wondering why on earth he didn’t ask her to dance earlier in the evening.

They separate at the end to bow, hands still connected even if they’re not supposed to be. Felix brings Annette’s hand up to his mouth, and presses a kiss to the back of it, before dropping it unceremoniously and swiftly marching out of the room and back towards the dorm, deciding that that was definitely enough of that for a lifetime, and if he never had to see Annette again, then that was probably for the best.

“Felix!” Her voice calls after him, only just past the courtyard, not even as far as the stairs where if he really wanted to avoid her he could just run and be in his room in less than a minute. He stops, then, and she catches up. “Walk me back to my room? I think I’m tired of the ball for tonight.”

They walk in silence, Felix not sure what to say to her after messing up kissing her hand. He’s never kissed anyone’s hand in his lifetime, so he has no idea what on earth possessed him to do so now. Annette braids her hair as they go, pulling two ribbons out of her uniform pockets.

When they reach her dorm, they stand awkwardly, just staring at each other for a moment. Then Annette takes a step closer to him, stands on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek, retracting back like a spring half a second later.

“Thanks for dancing with me, Felix. I don’t think anyone else would have.”  
  
“Oh. Um… no problem. It was fun.”  
  
“I’m glad to hear it. Good night!”  
  
“Good night.”

And then she’s gone, back to her room, and he guesses that he should go back to his, even though it’s not that late. Annette’s hands, soft and warm, plague his thoughts as he undresses for bed, the imprint of her hand visible on his shoulder if he pretends hard enough. Annette’s lips, soft and warm, against his lip, Felix’s fingers reaching up to touch the spot, before vowing that he’ll never let himself do anything so stupid ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I bully Sylvain so much hes a good lad. Also I'm not huge on Ingrid so? this was weird to write so much of her. I don't plan for her to appear massive amounts past this but she'll be there!


	10. Guardian Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pile of books slams in front of her at the same time that she lays her head on the table, because really, ten pages of notes and sixteen diagrams is too much and she’s probably going to have to condense them into two pages of notes including diagrams before she starts on her essay. She glances up as Lysithea takes a seat, looking at her as if she’s gained another head.
> 
> “What’s wrong with you?” She asks, as if she both cares and doesn’t care about the answer at the same time.
> 
> “So much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to post this yesterday but I forgot to! Sorry uwu

One of the small joys in Annette’s life is studying. She knows that makes her a nerd, and she happily accepts it. Spending time in the library, surrounded by books and that weird library smell is one of her most favourite things in the world. The whole environment has changed recently, though- with Tomas gone and revealed as some sort of monster who tortured a whole village, the library is empty more often than not.

It’s strange, Annette thinks, because there’s only two and a half months left until the end of the year. That’s two and a half months until their final exams, until graduation. Annette is determined to pass the Gremory exam as her practical portion, as well as hand in that essay about her time on the battlefield. She has ten pages of notes and sixteen diagrams ready to go for that- it’s just a matter of sitting down to actually write it.

It doesn’t help either that the monastery suffered the loss of the Knight Captain, Jeralt, just a few weeks previously, and although Byleth has been turning up to class and handing out work as usual, there’s something different about her entire demeanour, affecting not just her own class, but everyone around her.

Annette feels like she knows what it’s like to lose a father, even if he’s still alive and well.

And then she feels bad about that, because unlike the Professor, her father isn’t _dead_. He’s just… not good. And absent. And sometimes, Annette thinks it might have been better if he had died back then, because at least that’s a valid excuse for leaving your wife and child while you look after someone else’s child in a different city. And then she feels terrible and evil because she really shouldn’t be wishing death upon her father.

A pile of books slams in front of her at the same time that she lays her head on the table, because really, ten pages of notes and sixteen diagrams is too much and she’s probably going to have to condense them into two pages of notes including diagrams before she starts on her essay. She glances up as Lysithea takes a seat, looking at her as if she’s gained another head.

“What’s wrong with you?” She asks, as if she both cares and doesn’t care about the answer at the same time.

“So much.”  
  
“That’s a bit dramatic. Is there one specific thing you could name? How is the essay going?”  
  
“It’s fine. I haven’t started it yet, but I’m still ahead of schedule, so it’s fine.”  
  
“And the Gremory exam? I’ll say, I’m having trouble with some of the more advanced Faith spells. They’re so different to the Dark Magic spells I’m used to.”  
  
“Oh, really?” Annette says, finally dragging herself up from the table. “I find them okay. I mean, they’re not perfect yet, but I’m getting there. I wonder if there’s a fundamental difference between Dark Magic and Black Magic and their link to Faith spells…”  
  
“I think that’s a book you’d need to write at the School of Sorcery,” Lysithea points out. “Though I’ve never heard of anyone talking about that before. Maybe you’re on to something.”

“I did consider going back to the School of Sorcery for a year again after this to do some in depth, high level research. Hey, you should join me! I really think you’d enjoy it. Though, um, obviously only if your family would let you.”  
  
“If they let me come here… well, I suppose Garreg Mach is neutral territory, and although I technically live in the Alliance, House Ordelia is allied with the Empire. I don’t think they would be too keen on me going to Fhirdiad, as much as I would be interested.”  
  
“Oh, right. That’s a shame,” Annette says quietly, because she would really like a friend to go back to the School of Sorcery with, and Lysithea really is the ideal candidate- she’s good at magic (better than Annette, in fact) and Annette really likes her. But it’s not meant to be, Annette laments, opening her book and staring blankly at the pages.

There is masses of information on this one page, about a spell that Annette doesn’t think she needs to know. When is she ever going to need to warp anyone? Teleportation seems like a risky spell to be learning, so she turns back a few pages to the Recover spell, and revises that, because goddess knows she needs more practice. It’s hard to get it, though, when she’s using Faith magic as a secondary skill, and other people are valued as healers over her. And that’s okay, Annette tells herself, because they’re doing a much better job than she would be anyway.

“You’ve been staring at that page for an hour,” Lysithea points out. “You can’t possibly have taken anything in.”  
  
“I’m sorry. I guess… my brain is a little all over the place today.”  
  
“Don’t apologise to me. Maybe you should go take a rest? I know you study harder than anyone else.”  
  
“Hey, you said before that you studied harder than me!”  
  
“I thought so, a few months ago. Now, I can see that you’re insane, Annette.” Lysithea is smiling, a gentle curving of her mouth that Annette so rarely gets to see on the girl.

“Gee, thanks! But maybe I will go lie down for a bit.” She gathers her things into a neat pile before lifting the whole stack. Lysithea’s hand grabs her wrist as she passes her, stopping Annette in her tracks.

“It’s not too late to apply to the School of Sorcery, is it? Maybe I’ll look into it for next year.”

That sentence alone puts a skip in Annette’s step. Lunch is next on her agenda for today- if she goes to lie down now, she’ll just think about how hungry she is and not be able to actually rest. She’s practically bouncing on her toes as she makes her way downstairs towards the dining hall, passing many other people on her way. She doesn’t pay attention to who, until a voice calls out to her.

“You should be walking in the hallways, Annette.”  
  
She turns sharply on her heel, grip tightening around the books that she holds. Her father rarely speaks to her, or acknowledges her presence, so to chastise her in the corridor for skipping? Well, Annette feels rage rising within her, and fixes him with her strongest glare (again, not particularly threatening because of her height and overall disposition).

“Really? Would you have a problem with me skipping in the hallways of House Dominic too? Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t know if I was, though, because you haven’t been there in years!”

She’s trying her best to keep her temper- Annette has never particularly been an angry person, but recently her thoughts keep ending up on her father’s abandonment of the rest of her family and she feels nothing but contempt for the man who now stands in front of her.

“Annette, this is not the time,” Gilbert, as he likes to be called now, warns, his tone low and careful.

“Then when _is_ the time, father?” Annette pleads. “If not now, when? When will you listen to me? All I want is for you to write back to Mother, please. Don’t worry about me. Think about her.”  
  
Gilbert remains silent.

“There are more important things to be worrying about than someone skipping in the hallways. Like your family! I know that I’m supposed to be walking, but I am excited today, and I’m not really hurting anyone, but… but you are!”  
  
Before she can say anything else to irreparably destroy her relationship with her father, Annette turns on her heel and walks away at top speed, technically following her father’s randomly enforced rules. She doesn’t stop until she’s at her dormitory door, staring at the wood, almost forgetting how to enter her own room.

Eventually, she gets the key in the lock, and goes inside, dropping her books unceremoniously on her desk. Tears prick at her eyes- not out of sadness, but from anger, directed wholly at father. She’s not even sure if she can even really call him her father anymore. He’s so different from the man that raised her. She can barely even look him in the eye, never mind reminding herself that she’s supposed to call him Gilbert, not Gustave.

Sometimes, she wishes she didn’t come looking for him at all.

Annette needs to talk. That much she is certain of. She needs to get all of her thoughts out of her system in a healthy way, but she can’t think of anyone she can talk to. She’s still not talking to Mercedes- or more accurately, Mercedes isn’t talking to her. It’s a silly argument, but one that Annette can’t get out of her mind (and neither can Mercedes, evidently). Lysithea would be another option, but Annette knows that she’s busy, and is too polite to bother her. She really should have a lie down and forget about the whole thing, but…

Before Annette can think of anyone else, her feet have carried her to Felix’s door.

Logically, she knows he’s probably not in. His Sunday mornings are always spent at the training grounds, so she wonders why she even brought herself here. Besides, why does she want to talk to him? She supposes that he’s the only one that knows the truth about her father- she hasn’t even told Mercie, even though he suggested it would be a good idea. And now would have been a good time to share this secret with her best friend, if only they weren’t fighting.

Regardless, she knocks on Felix’s door, and accepts that he’ll not be there. Knowing her luck, Sylvain will be in his room, and hear her knocking, and assume something about them that is entirely not true. Annette is in half a mind to turn around and walk away because this is going to be a losing battle, but then the door opens and there stands Felix, looking bewildered to see who his visitor is.

“Annette?”  
  
“Hi! Um…”  
  
“I didn’t think we had magic practice today.” He crosses his arms across his chest, and Annette thinks herself stupid for ever thinking that Felix would want to listen to her problems. He only likes her in the context of magic tutoring and…

Well, Annette has been trying very hard not to read anything into him kissing her hand at the ball.

“I’m not here about the magic thing. I… ugh, I shouldn’t have come here. Never mind! Sorry to bother you!”  
  
“No, wait. What’s wrong?”  
  
“Oh, I…”  
  
“Come in,” Felix says with a sigh, moving aside to let her in to his room.

Surprisingly, the room is very tidy- not at all what Annette expected from him. There’s not much there- mostly just books that she suspects have never been read, and some swords hung on the wall. The Aegis Shield sits on the windowsill- a new addition from their mission last week.

“That was a weird battle, right?” Annette says, sitting crosslegged on the floor. Felix hesitates for a moment by the door before joining her.

“With no one properly in command, it was difficult. But I think we did okay. No one from Fraldarius died, and that’s all my old man cares about.”

“Oh, that’s what I wanted to talk about, actually.”  
  
“You came here to talk about my dad?” Felix asks, that bewildered look on his face once again.

“No! Um, I meant _my_ father.”

“Oh, that makes more sense. What has he done now? You know I don’t like him, so don’t hold back.”

“It’s such a stupid thing to be mad about, but he just saw me in the hall, and told me to stop skipping. Um, not that I often skip, it was only two or three skips, you know when you’re walking a little bit too fast and it turns into a skip? Well anyway, he told me I should be walking in the hallways,” she says, making sure to do an impression of her father for added dramatic effect. “And, I don’t know, it just reminded me of when he would tell me off as a child. You know when you’re five or six and you run around your huge stately home because it’s fun?”  
  
“Yeah,” Felix echoes hollowly.

“Well,” Annette continues, “it just reminded me… that he probably hasn’t told me off for anything since I was five or six, because he was in Fhirdiad so much until I was twelve, and then he just… disappeared. And came here.”  
  
“The more I learn about this guy the more I hate him.”  
  
“You don’t have to hate him, Felix,” Annette sighs, sinking her fingers into the rug she sits on. “You can form your own opinion about him.”  
  
“I have. And I don’t like him.” He pauses for a moment, looking between Annette and his hands and back to Annette and then down to the floor. “I don’t like my own father much either.”  
  
“Oh?” Annette presses, trying to encourage him because really, she doesn’t know much about Felix other than he likes swords and is good at swords, he sometimes struggles with reading, and he doesn’t much like his friends. And she would like to know more about him, because she wants to be his friend, properly, rather than just in name.

“He has stupid ideas about knighthood and what I should be doing with my life after I leave here. I’m to take over the Fraldarius estate when he croaks.”

“And you… don’t want to be Duke?”  
  
“I was never supposed to be Duke.”  
  
Annette is the one to pause now, because she knows where this is going. She’s vaguely aware Felix had a sibling that died, having heard about it from Ingrid. But she doesn’t want to push, because it’s not really her place to do so- Felix will have to talk on his own.

“My… brother was supposed to be,” Felix continues after a moment of Annette’s encouraging smile. “But he died. In the same battle that you lost your father in.”  
  
“Ah,” Annette says lamely, adding, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“My old man hasn’t been the same since. Always going on and on about how Glenn died like a true knight… as if that’s a real concept and not just something that he’s spent years forming us in to. Glenn died protecting Dimitri, and so did my father’s sense. Since then, he’s cared more for Dimitri than he has for me.”  
  
“My father left us to… to look after Dimitri too,” Annette says, with the smallest voice she’s ever heard from herself- finally admitting that truth out loud.

“Well, that’s one thing we have in common, then,” Felix says, and when Annette looks up from the rug, he’s smiling- well, sort of.

“I don’t blame Dimitri though. I kinda think of him as like, an adopted sibling or something.”  
  
“That’s not why I don’t like Dimitri. That’s why I don’t like my father. Dimitri was a child, my father is an adult. He made that decision, not Dimitri.”

Annette doesn’t fail to notice how Felix doesn’t elaborate on why he doesn’t like Dimitri.

“I always thought you were really mean, Felix,” Annette says, changing the subject as she lies back on the floor, forgetting for a moment that she wasn’t in her own room. Felix lies too, staring staunchly at the wooden ceiling, one hand carelessly on his stomach as if he was trying to control his breathing.

“And?”  
  
“Well, you are. But not to me. So… thanks.”

“I try not to be… mean. Some people are just stupid.”  
  
“And by some people, you mean Dimitri and Sylvain.”  
  
“Yes. But you’re not stupid, or annoying.”  
  
“Well, thank you. And you’re a good listener. I really needed someone to rant to today, and I know it’s weird that I came to you and all because we’re barely friends, and-“  
  
“It’s okay, Annette. I have a lot of experience with shitty dads. Just as much as you, in fact. So we’re equal in that regard.”

“I should probably go. I did not see ‘lying on the floor of Felix Fraldarius’s bedroom and complaining about my dad’ on the agenda today, and I still haven’t had lunch yet, so…”  
  
“It sounds weird when you put it like that,” Felix grumbles. “But you should definitely eat. I… I’m here for you if you need to complain about him again.”  
  
“And my door is always open to you as well,” Annette says with a smile, dusting off her skirt. “See you later, then.”

“See you.”

There’s something very strange about Felix, Annette thinks, but she can’t quite put her finger on what it is. He’s normally a very prickly person, but he’s… not, not when he’s around her. It’s almost like he’s an entirely different person with her, and she is determined to figure out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert has no rights in this fic I'm sorry


	11. Pegasus Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he wakes up on the twentieth day of the Pegasus Moon, Felix is not filled with excitement. It’s just like any other day for him- class in the morning, lunch, class in the afternoon, homework, dinner, training, bath, bed. What he doesn’t factor in is the basket of flowers outside his door.

Not once has Felix enjoyed his birthday. For others, he understands, it is a day of celebration. Sylvain celebrates his birthday- usually in an over the top way, but Felix and Ingrid and Dimitri know that it’s actually a celebration of making it through another year of his life. Ingrid likes to take stock on her birthday too- Felix remembers many mornings during the Guardian Moon where they would travel down to Galatea to have dinner with Ingrid’s family.

Felix doesn’t care if Dimitri celebrates his birthday or not anymore. The Dimitri he knew had his last birthday at least four years ago, and this new Dimitri probably has completely different birthday traditions. It used to be playing in the snow in Fhirdiad until their fingers were blue and they were called in for dinner, sitting by the fire as their clothes dried out and watching their fingers turn from blue to red and finally back to their normal colour.

Ingrid would keep them all in line, and sometimes Glenn was there, and the two of them would chat idly about what Glenn was up to (sometimes Miklan was there too, Felix remembers with a shudder). Sylvain wasn’t as insufferable then, back when they were nine, ten, eleven, all on the verge of puberty but not quite there yet.

Felix remembers being small, both physically and emotionally. Now, he’s taller than Ingrid, barely, but sometimes, when he’s around Sylvain, when the older man is feeling particularly boisterous, Felix sometimes feels like the child that would cry at the drop of a hat, if Ingrid pulled his hair or Sylvain looked at him funny. Or if he watched Dimitri lose all control of who he was.

Felix tries his best not to think of Dimitri when he’s turning eighteen today, technically an adult, but not feeling any older or bigger or stronger than he did when he was when he was turning fourteen. In fact, when he’s not concentrating on being the best person he can possibly be and looking out for himself and trying not to care about other people, he feels even smaller than he did at fourteen (thirteen, technically, he has to remind himself).

So when he wakes up on the twentieth day of the Pegasus Moon, Felix is not filled with excitement. It’s just like any other day for him- class in the morning, lunch, class in the afternoon, homework, dinner, training, bath, bed. What he doesn’t factor in is the basket of flowers outside his door.

Though he doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday, he has forgotten that the Professor likes to celebrate each and every student’s birthday, with flowers and afternoon tea. Once he remembers this, Felix mentally reshuffles his day. Homework is now taken up by this tea session (which he does quite enjoy, but pretends he doesn’t). That means doing the assignments he’s been putting off will eat into his training time, and…

He forgot he was training with Annette today.

Though he likes Annette, she is very overenthusiastic with her training schedule, and though he’s made huge progress on the Thunder spell and working towards Thoron in the time they’ve been training together, he’s a little tired of her monopolising his training time when he can feel himself getting rusty with a sword (it’s all in his head).

Regardless of his plans for the day being cancelled, Felix heads to the dining hall for breakfast. Luckily, no one who would know it’s his birthday is there- he hasn’t even disclosed that information to the other Blue Lions members, and after they asked the first time and he answered that it didn’t matter, no one bothered to ask again.

Mercedes waves him and his tray over, pointing to a space opposite her and Ashe. He feels stupid just eating toast when he sees Mercedes has a bowl of porridge with a smiley face made from fruit in front of her, but manages to get through the dry bread before necking his coffee and bidding a farewell to his classmates, who he’ll see in ten minutes anyway.

Today, Felix is the first at the Blue Lions classroom, a first in all the time he’s been at the academy. He takes his seat, and tries to put his things out as neatly as possible to take up as little room as possible on the desk he shares with Ferdinand. The cavalier spends a lot of time gesticulating while he’s answering or asking questions, and it would be just Felix’s luck if he knocked over his pot of ink again today.

Slowly, the classroom comes to life. Ashe and Mercedes, as predicted, are first to arrive, taking their respective seats. Ingrid comes next, dropping a small piece of parchment on Felix’s desk that simply reads ‘Happy Birthday’ in her neat cursive. Dimitri and Dedue enter, the former mumbling a sentiment to Felix that he pretends he doesn’t hear. Felix is almost thankful for Ferdinand’s presence when he sits down, Flayn skipping in behind him- everyone stops looking at him.

“Happy birthday, Felix!” Sylvain exclaims as he enters the room, alone for once, though the Professor is hot on his heels, looking slightly stressed as usual. Every eye turns to Felix, and offers some sort of greeting in response- Mercedes promises she’ll make him a cake, and Ashe offers to help her.

“You never once told me it was your birthday, Felix. Many happy returns!” Ferdinand says, not quite as loudly as Sylvain, but with the same energy.

“Thanks,” Felix mutters in response, though he doesn’t mean it.

Annette and Dorothea are last to arrive, which Felix is eternally grateful for, because he doesn’t know if he can deal with more people giving him their well-meaning yet annoying greetings, especially when those two are so often over the top anyway. There are so many extroverts in this class, Felix realises with slight disgust.

He takes notes throughout the class- it’s on advanced axe techniques, and while he has zero interest in ever picking up an axe, it’s useful to know what his opponents are planning to do so that he has the information to counter it. It probably would be helpful to practice against an actual axe user, but he can’t see him asking Dedue to duel any time soon, and he would rather pull his eyeballs out than watch Ferdinand coo over his horse as he takes a swing at him with an axe.

In theory, Annette can use an axe, his brain reminds him, but a more logical part of him reminds himself that he hasn’t seen Annette brandish an axe in many moons, and she’d probably do more damage to herself if she’s out of practice than she would to him. Regardless, he takes a glance over at her, just a few feet left of where he sits.

If his notes are impressive, then hers are a sacred text- she writes at the speed of light, nodding along to what the professor says, and her handwriting is still legible. He finds himself smiling to himself, just barely, and then he finds himself making eye contact with Mercedes, who is smiling properly, and he snaps his head back around to the front of the room and doesn’t look away from Byleth and the board for the rest of the lesson.

Felix doesn’t stay in the dining hall at lunch, because the sheer thought of people singing happy birthday to him and embarrassing him makes him feel sick to his stomach. Instead, he takes the soup (which looks especially grey today) and sits outside. This isn’t unusual- when it’s warm, he’s spotted many students sitting outside with their lunch. But it’s cold, frost still gathering on windows overnight, and Felix just hopes that people think it’s because he’s awkward sometimes.

It’s strange, Felix ponders, freezing outside with his rapidly cooling bowl of soup, that today he cares about what people think of him. Usually, if someone said something to him that he didn’t like, he would shrug it off, and that would be the end of that. But no, today he can feel eyes on him, and he doesn’t like the feeling one bit.

If it were just Ingrid and Sylvain wanting to celebrate, he could probably cope with humouring his friends for an hour. But Ferdinand was so loud, as was the response from the rest of the Blue Lions, and even the boar joined in… and Felix doesn’t want birthday greetings from strangers.

Afternoon class goes ahead without incident, and Felix is almost happy to see the end of the day come. They’re so close to the end of the year now too, with only a month to go before they’re due to graduate and leave Garreg Mach monastery forever. He’s not sure if he really wants to go back home- maybe he can move to Fhirdiad and start up a mercenary group or something.

Byleth nods at him after class, and he hangs about after everyone else leaves. He’s not sure what she’ll want to talk about today- usually she steers the conversation in the direction of the monastery’s many cats and dogs, even though he cares little for the dogs. His family has always been a cat family, and loathe as he is to admit it, he’ll miss the small black cat that frequents his windows in the mornings when he goes back home.

Byleth pours his favourite tea, and he relaxes a little, leaning back in his chair. She’s a strange woman, and he’s always thought that, but he can’t say that she doesn’t care about the students that she teaches. Every single birthday, special occasion, Saint’s day or otherwise, Byleth makes sure that her students are valued.

“I get the idea that you’re not the biggest fan of birthdays,” she says, setting her own cup down with a gentle clink of china.

“I don’t see the point in celebrating,” Felix explains. “I haven’t done anything to deserve celebration, other than not die.”  
  
“Sometimes, not dying is as good a reason as any to celebrate. When I was a mercenary, there were usually huge celebrations when someone recovered from a big injury or a long illness. When there was a dangerous mission that could’ve gone horribly wrong, but everyone came back from. Lots of drinking,” she muses.

“My father doesn’t like mercenaries,” Felix says. “Says they’re… loud. But I’d quite want to be a mercenary, if there was any chance of me doing so.”  
  
“Well, with your sword skills, I think most mercenary groups would be glad to have you. But because you’re the son of one of the most prestigious noble families in Faerghus, I think you’d probably be turned away.”  
  
“They think about things like that?”  
  
“Yes. When I was travelling with my father, a girl from a small noble territory in the Empire tried to join us. My father was not happy and tried to turn her away, but she stuck around anyway. We got in trouble for kidnapping when her family found out.”

“Guess I’ll just have to join the Royal Guard or something,” Felix laments, his future back at home looking bleaker and bleaker with every day he spends here.

“Don’t let your family do anything you don’t want to do.”

It’s proper advice from the professor, but she says it so casually that it’s hard to tell. Felix knows that she means well, but she’s only met his father a few times, and he’d turned on the charm in order to give off the best impression of House Fraldarius possible (because goddess knows Felix isn’t doing it himself).

“How is your magic training going?” Byleth asks, effectively changing the subject. “I haven’t seen you use it yet, you’d better be close so that you can pass your exam- only three or four weeks left.”  
  
“It’s fine, I guess. I’m getting there. It’s hard to practice when I can only go during supervised sessions, and if Annette is busy I don’t want to go on my own and look dumb fumbling over Thunder when Dorothea and Hubert are casting massive complex spells.”  
  
“Don’t compare yourself to people who have been learning magic since they were children. You’ve only been on your path for a few months- give it time. If you all do that reunion that Dimitri suggested in five years, I’d expect you to be a great spell caster.”  
  
“It’s stupid to plan so far ahead. We’ll all forget, no one will be here but you.”

“That may be true,” Byleth almost laughs, hiding her smile behind her cup of tea.

* * *

Felix is early to the training grounds, not wanting to suffer through any more of Sylvain’s declarations of love to every passing woman, including those he’s already slept with and also Ingrid, who rightfully hits him and shuts him up for a few minutes before he starts again on the next woman. Felix knows that Sylvain isn’t coping as well as he maybe could have been with his home life and Miklan’s death, and clearly the thought of going home is bothering him. That doesn’t stop Felix’s stomach from turning, though.

So he ditches his friends and makes his way to the training grounds, which he finds completely empty. Usually, an empty training grounds is Felix’s favourite sight, meaning that he can do an in-depth training regime. But today he feels different, and it would be rude to Annette to start sword training while he was waiting for her. So he sits on the steps, tying his fingers in knots waiting for her.

His seventeenth birthday was a lot more eventful than this one, if only for the fact that his father made him celebrate it, knowing he would miss his most important birthday this year. It doesn’t feel any different from any other year, though, Felix thinks, because today feels the same as every other day, the same as yesterday felt, and the same as tomorrow will feel.

He finds himself humming along to the happy birthday song that Sylvain started singing at dinner before. It’s catchy, Felix will give him that much, similar to the songs that Annette sings that also stick in his head. He’d never sing them out loud though- mostly because he’s absolutely certain that she would kill him. He moves from humming to singing- barely, but the words are forming in his mouth

“Are you singing?!” A voice calls from behind him, and he turns, horrified, to see Annette, who looks positively gleeful at what she’s walked in on.  
  
“No,” he says quickly, but that only makes Annette’s grin grow wider.

“You were, I heard you! Your singing voice is so nice,” she compliments, dropping down to sit beside him. “If there wasn’t only a month left of school, I’d say you should join the choir.”  
  
“No way, Annette. I’m a terrible singer. Surely you’ve heard me the few times the Professor makes me go to choir?”  
  
“No, actually, I haven’t. Why do you think you’re bad? I think you have a lovely voice.”  
  
“I can’t harmonise for shit, and that’s what I have to do in choir. Whatever. Are we going to practice magic, or what?”

“I heard you were singing happy birthday to yourself,” Annette continues, meeting his gaze and causing his cheeks to flush red. “I didn’t know it was your birthday, so… happy birthday!”  
  
“Thanks, Annette,” Felix says, and he really means it. There’s no embarrassing him in front of the whole class, there’s no declaration of how good a friend he is or how great it’s been getting to know him, just a simple sentiment that’s really all that Felix wants.

“We don’t have to train today. It wouldn’t be any fun to spend your birthday with me learning magic when you could be doing something much more enjoyable.”  
  
“I like learning magic with you,” Felix says, and immediately regrets it when he sees Annette’s face turn the same colour his feels.

“Oh! Um… well, there’s no one here to supervise yet, and I really don’t want to get in trouble.”  
  
Felix gets to his feet, straightens out his back, and gets into the casting position that Annette showed him a few weeks ago for Thoron. She’s quick to rise too, hovering by his elbow, straightening it out with a gentle touch that still makes him feel like his arm is on fire. There are no books today, with only a few weeks left to perfect this. Hell, he hasn’t even got Thunder perfect yet, but if he wants to pass that exam, this is what he has to do.

He focuses his aim on a training dummy that wasn’t put away earlier, and he can begin to feel electricity sparking at his fingertips. The sensation doesn’t hurt him anymore, doesn’t come as a surprise, and as he focuses his energy on the spell casting and his movements, Annette bounces on her toes beside him. He casts the spell, lightning crashing down on the dummy and splintering it in two.

“You did it!” Annette cheers, her bouncing turning into jumps as she grabs Felix’s arm. “That was Thoron! You’ll definitely be able to pass your exam now!”  
  
“All thanks to you,” Felix says, freeing his arm from her grip as she apologises quietly. “You’ve been such a great help over the past few months. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Can I… give you a hug? Is that okay?” Annette asks, and Felix has to stop himself from telling her that getting a hug from her is all he’s wanted in a long time.

Instead, he nods mutely, and waits for her to wrap her arms around him. She’s a lot shorter than him, that much is clear, but she’s soft and warm, and Felix finds himself wondering if perhaps there’s a chance that he may be in love with her. But he has no idea what that feels like, so he dismisses the idea, because he swore he wouldn’t let himself get too close to her. But this _is_ close, and he quite likes the idea of staying like this for a while.

“Good job, Felix,” another voice calls. “Though I’m surprised you disregarded Annette’s rules about there not being any supervisors here.”

“Professor!” Annette answers, quickly drawing away from Felix. “How long have you been here?”  
  
“About an hour,” she answers. “I needed to check that Felix actually was learning magic, since he’ll never show me. And he is, so… that’s it. I’m glad you’re listening.”  
  
He’s not at all glad that _she_ was listening to all that, but he can hardly say it out loud, so he just mumbles a thanks, and turns on his heel to leave, ditching Annette and Byleth with their questions about advanced magic theory. He needs to listen to himself more, Felix thinks, because he’s moving dangerously towards territory he doesn’t want to be in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nearly at the end of the academy phase.... i havent actually got a written plan for the second half yet oops


	12. Lone Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s sad, Annette thinks, that he’s ended up like this. All year she heard Felix’s mutterings of concern, eventually joined by Ingrid and Sylvain- those who have known him the longest. But with Byleth only available as a teacher and mentor, and not a therapist of any kind, there wasn’t really any way that they could have helped Dimitri. Sometimes, she sits near him in the Cathedral, offering her prayers to a Goddess that she’s not quite sure exists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a bit late! Hopefully I can still publish the next chapter on Friday this week.

It feels like the world is ending.

It’s not, probably. At least, not yet. They’ve got time, they’ve got warning, and they can prepare in every way possible for the inevitable bloodshed currently heading their way from Enbarr. It’s going to be a long fight, and even though Annette hasn’t seen the army, she knows that it’s unlikely everyone will make it through the battle.

War is coming to Fódlan, and Annette isn’t prepared at all.

Classes continue as normal, Professor Byleth flying through an amended syllabus consisting of old battle plans of the monastery, formations, and how to use the ballistae and magic orbs for those who that would apply to. Marianne transfers to the class last minute to learn from Byleth, and joins up with Flayn and Mercedes to complete their basic training on healing magic.

Final exams have been postponed indefinitely, and while this comes as a relief to most people, Annette can’t help but feel a little disappointed that her year of hard work towards the Gremory exam has disappeared in a flash. Still, her skills are better put to use for the war effort, rather than worrying about an exam. No one else seems at all bothered about this, so she shelves her feelings on the subject for the time being.

While the monastery is busy with people preparing for the upcoming battle, it’s also eerily silent. Byleth can still be seen rushing about, coat sleeves flapping in the breeze behind her, but now she looks so tired, so sad, all the time. Annette doubts she gets much sleep- nor does Seteth, for when Annette spots the two of them together, hunched over battle plans even in the dining hall or over tea, they both look as tired as the other.

Tired is a common feeling, Annette thinks, as she feels herself trailing her feet as she walks into the classroom. There’s a constant shuffling as people come in for the next few minutes, and Byleth stands at the front, a vacant look on her face as she takes attendance for the day. Even Mercedes looks tired- late nights in the kitchen making emergency supplies for the battle have clearly taken a toll on her.

What Annette is most worried about, however, isn’t her exam, or how Byleth looks, or how tired Mercedes is. Dimitri is a whole problem in and of himself. He shows up to class most but not all days, and sits in his usual seat in the front row in complete silence. As soon as Byleth dismisses them, he leaves the classroom at top speed, and spends the rest of the day in the Cathedral. Dedue brings him his dinner, and he won’t speak to anyone else.

It’s sad, Annette thinks, that he’s ended up like this. All year she heard Felix’s mutterings of concern, eventually joined by Ingrid and Sylvain- those who have known him the longest. But with Byleth only available as a teacher and mentor, and not a therapist of any kind, there wasn’t really any way that they could have helped Dimitri. Sometimes, she sits near him in the Cathedral, offering her prayers to a Goddess that she’s not quite sure exists.

* * *

It's a rainy afternoon when Annette marches up to Byleth’s desk after class, just as the woman is packing up her things, presumably headed to yet another war meeting. Annette was full of confidence upon having this idea, but now standing in front of the desk, she second guesses her plan.

“Is something the matter, Annette?” Byleth asks after a moment, her features showing no sign of annoyance at her persistence.

“I was wondering if it would be possible for me to take the Gremory exam? I know exams are the last thing on everyone’s mind, but I’ve been working really hard towards it all year, and I know that I can be of more help if I have those extra skills I’ll be allowed to use when I take the exam. And if we do go to a full-blown war with the Empire… I want to be able to help then.”

It feels silly to say out loud, a speech that she’s practiced multiple times. But this truly means so much to Annette, and the idea of leaving here on uncertain terms with her future and her own skills as a mage just doesn’t sit right with her. In fact, it makes her feel sick to her stomach with anxiety.  
  
“I admire your dedication, Annette,” Byleth almost laughs. “I can’t really argue with your logic at all, and you are the most likely to pass any of the end of year exams… Are you free on Sunday? I have a two-hour free block that we could do your exam in.”  
  
“Oh, I don’t want to take up your free time, Professor. I’m sure it’s scarce already.”  
  
“Honestly, I’d rather run your exam. If someone sees me sitting idly, then they’ll probably rope me into some other menial task literally anyone could do. So, Sunday, 2pm? We’ll meet here for the written portion, and then move to the training grounds, if that’s okay.”  
  
“Thank you so much, Professor!” Annette gushes, nodding enthusiastically. “I won’t let you down.”

She scampers out of the room with a spring in her step, determined to finish her studying for the test. Only three days warning for the biggest step in her life doesn’t feel like a lot, but Annette is certain that she’ll be able to do it- not only for herself, but also to prove to the entirety of House Dominic that she is, in fact, not the delicate girl that she left as.

* * *

Annette can barely sit still through the service on Sunday morning. They’re a lot more macabre since Edelgard’s incitement of war with the church, but Rhea still insists on taking to the pulpit every week and delivering a sermon on how if you don’t follow the teachings of Seiros and give yourself up to the Goddess, you will never reach your true potential and get eternal life or whatever. Annette doesn’t pay attention, except during the hymns, because all she can think about is her exam.

Usually before exams she’s beyond nervous, but Annette is excited this time. It feels silly, the last thing she should be looking forward to when they’re about to go to war any time now. But Annette wonders if it is perhaps the last thing she’ll be able to look forward to, perhaps for a while, perhaps ever.

“I know you’ll do just excellently, Annie,” Mercedes cheers at lunch, and Annette is glad now more than ever that they managed to patch up their relationship before they enter this war.  
  
“I think I’ll be okay,” Annette responds, doing a final run over the forms and incantations for all of the spells she’ll have to show off. From the corner of her eye, she can spot Byleth approaching. “Oh no, here she comes! Wish me luck!”  
  
“Good luck!”  
  
Annette meets Byleth halfway, bouncing on her toes as she approaches. Byleth smiles, and wordlessly, they leave the dining hall in the direction of the Blue Lions classroom. It’s already set up- there’s a paper on a desk in Annette’s usual spot, and rules scrawled in Byleth’s messy handwriting on the blackboard.

“You have an hour and a half here, then a thirty-minute practical exam, which I’ll explain after you finish the theory test. Are you ready?” Byleth asks, sitting at her desk with a heavy book from the library in her hands.

“Yep!”  
  
“Then off you go. You have to the next bell.”  
  
The questions are more or less what Annette expects, and she makes her way through the simpler questions at top speed. The essay takes her significantly more time, but she thinks she did a good job regardless. There are a few equations at the end that stump her, but with a combination of counting on her fingers and making educated guesses, Annette finishes the paper, setting her pen down at the same time that the bell goes.

“Alright?” Byleth is quick to ask, making her way around her desk to collect the paper. She looks like she’s gauging Annette’s reaction, so Annette is sure to grin, even if now she feels more nervous than she ever did going into the exam.

“I think so. There were a few I wasn’t too sure about, but I think I gave them a good enough go.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I’ve actually enlisted Hanneman’s help for the practical part- I’ll hopefully be able to mark your paper during the time you’re away. Can you make your way to the training grounds by yourself?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Come back here when you’re done, then. I’ll hopefully be able to give you your marks. Oh, and make sure Professor Hanneman comes along too.”  
  
With a nod, Annette makes her way to the training grounds. The monastery has been very silent the past days, deep in the knowledge that Edelgard’s army could be just days away, and no one would know. Seteth has warned them that they don’t have much time- it takes less than two weeks to march to Garreg Mach from Enbarr, and Edelgard likely already has initial troops stationed in the borders, ready to go at any time.

Professor Hanneman waits for her in the training grounds, looking as tired as she’s sure everyone else feels. For a moment, she feels rather selfish about demanding that she do her exam, but then Hanneman smiles, and greets her, and her worries melt away.

“I am glad that we’ll have another Gremory in our midst in a matter of minutes,” he begins, his voice full of pride. “I know these are strange times for us all, but I’m glad of your courage to take this exam, Annette. Shall we begin?”  
  
Her confidence in her gives her confidence in herself, and Annette readies herself. She’s already shown off most of her arsenal in her previous exams, so this one is all about pulling out all the stops, with both Faith and Reason spells on show.

She begins with Excalibur, a spell that she’s had on the backburner for much longer than she cares to admit. Having a predisposed affinity for wind spells has certainly helped her over the years, and she hopes that her natural born talent as well as the many hours of practice she’s put in to hone her skills pays off now.

The spell goes flawlessly, and she manages to demonstrate it both while standing still and moving. A moving target is harder to hit, of course, but there’s no way for her to do that without demonstrating the spell on a real person. Still, Hanneman hums in approval, particularly when she changes spells midway through casting into Abraxas- something she’s been practicing a lot as of late.

Demonstrating healing spells is a lot more difficult, so Hanneman produces a list given to him by Manuela of the spells she knows Annette can do, and asks her to show him the forms and incantations for each one. It’s a little strange, especially when her fingers start to glow green and tingle, with nowhere to put the magic energy. But Hanneman smiles and nods, and declares the exam over.

“That’s it?” Annette asks, not sure whether that’s a good thing or not.

“Half an hour is over, and I’ve made my decision. Shall we go back to your classroom?”

Annette nods, too nervous to properly respond. Hanneman leads the way from the training grounds to the Blue Lions classroom, Annette following a few paces behind. Byleth still sits behind her desk when they arrive, frantically looking between Annette’s paper and what she assumes is a version with the answers already written in. Hanneman whispers something in Byleth’s ear, she nods, and then he leaves the classroom silently.

“I’m nearly done, Annette. Five minutes. Are you okay to wait?”  
  
“Of course.”

It’s the longest five minutes of Annette’s life by far. Time seems to go by so slowly with nothing to do but wait for Byleth to finish marking the paper. It doesn’t help that Byleth’s expressions are unreadable almost all of the time, and now is no exception to that rule. Byleth glances between one paper and the other, scribbling something down on one and then double checking on the other. Eventually, she closes the exam paper, writes something on the front, and gets up, heading towards Annette.

“You’re aware you only need fifty percent to pass, correct?”  
  
Annette nods- does that mean she got the dreaded forty-nine percent? She steadies her breathing, and closes her eyes, only opening them when she hears the soft sound of paper hitting her desk. She peers through a crack in her eyelids at the numbers- 148 + 50 = 198/200.

“Two marks off full marks?” Annette asks, just to clarify that she wasn’t making things up.

“Yes. That’s the highest score out of all the tests I’ve marked this year. So congratulations, Annette, you’ve passed your final exam.”

* * *

Garreg Mach feels particularly cold on the morning the everyone is woken up before it’s even properly light. There are people walking around with bells, ringing them long before the regular bells go off. Annette wakes with a start- the sun is barely up, a strange orange colour streaming through her window rather than the bright sun she’s used to. Immediately, she knows that something is seriously wrong.

She dresses in a hurry, not sure whether she should be in her school uniform or her new Gremory uniform or something else entirely. Unsure what the best choice is, she pulls on the school uniform, quickly stuffing her feet into the boots she’s been wearing all year that are practically worn out by this point. She ties her hair up quickly, not bothering to check whether it’s actually neat or not.

Mercedes meets her outside the door, and together, the two girls hurry towards the reception hall, where they know everyone else will be gathering for whatever this announcement is. Annette has a feeling she already knows, and she’s not sure she likes the idea at all. Almost all of the students from the Blue Lions and Golden Deer are here already, as well as many of the Knights of Seiros, and the faculty members, aside from Rhea, Seteth, and Byleth. Annette and Mercedes push their way through the crowd to stand with the rest of their class in silent fear.

It’s only a few minutes of waiting in a room filled with hushed whispers of what everyone thinks is happening before Byleth and Seteth arrive, notably without Rhea. Byleth stands on a table, clapping to get everyone’s attention, and Annette can see Seteth shaking his head at her actions.

“Good morning. Sorry to wake you all so early, but we have some news. Seteth?”   
  
She turns to her co-worker, who stands still until Byleth offers him her hand to get up on the table as well. He looks more than a little uncomfortable at the idea, but shakes it off, folding his arms over his chest.

“It is with much regret that I inform you that Edelgard and her army have passed over the border into the land surrounding the monastery. They will no doubt be at the gates in a number of hours.” A worried murmur goes up around the room, Annette clutching Mercedes a little bit tighter. “Quiet, quiet. We have a plan, students, you don’t need to worry.”  
  
“First of all,” Byleth says, taking the reins from Seteth, “we need you all in your uniforms as quickly and safely as possible. You can collect your weapons from the Knight’s Hall, and then we will meet up as classes in order to go over the battle plans. Blue Lions, we will meet in the training grounds with Catherine and Alois, while the Golden Deer will meet in the courtyard with Hanneman, Manuela and Shamir. Is this clear?”  
  
There is a general mumble of ‘yes’, and then Byleth hops off the table, holding her hand out to Seteth once more. He dismisses the gathering with a clap of his hands, and immediately, Mercedes and Annette turn on their heel and march back in the direction they came from. They don’t need to say a word, parting as soon as they get to their rooms with only a nod.

Annette has practiced putting her Gremory uniform on before in the privacy of her own room, worried that if a situation like this occurred she wouldn’t be able to get her uniform on fast enough and then some Imperial soldier would come into her room and kill her while she was half dressed. But the dress slips on easily enough, the belt clipping on afterwards, and the strange fluffy, feathery shawl is surprisingly comfortable once she gets it on right.

Thankfully, the training grounds aren’t too far away, and since she has no weapons to collect, Annette makes it there before the rest of her class. She feels a little strange, waiting about in this huge dress, so she sits down on the steps, making sure she’s not blocking the door. Eventually someone else arrives, and she’s not sure if she’s glad to see Felix or not. He sits beside her, not even bothering with a proper greeting, just glancing at her new dress and then looking away again.

“Everything’s going to change now, isn’t it?” She asks, trying her best to make sure he doesn’t realise how scared she is.

“I think everything has already changed. You’ve been here this last month, everyone’s just been waiting for something to happen. Edelgard has made her mark whether she wins this battle or not.”  
  
“She will win,” Annette says glumly. “We all know the Adrestian Empire has the most powerful army in Fódlan, and Edelgard is in control of the whole thing. They have practically endless troops, and we have… just us, I guess.”  
  
“Just us, including all of the Knights of Seiros, Byleth who is the best swordsmaster I’ve ever set my eyes on, and all the students who are strong enough to beat back at least enough of the initial wave that we can safely retreat. I think that’s going to be Byleth’s plan- it should be, at least.”  
  
“Don’t overestimate us,” Annette says seriously, turning to face Felix. “I mean it- half of us aren’t even adults yet, and we’ve been thrown headfirst into a real war.”

“Don’t die,” Felix says, suddenly a lot closer than she had noticed before. “ _I_ mean that. I don’t want to have to travel to Dominic to tell your uncle that you died at the hands of some Imperial soldier that I know you’re strong enough to beat. So stay safe out there, Annette.”

“I will,” she mumbles, acutely aware of how close he is and how his gaze keeps travelling down to her lips.

Usually, Annette doesn’t particularly care for romance, apart from a small thought in the back of her mind that would quite like to some day get married and have children. It’s a future wish, nothing to do with the present, just like how she would quite like to become a teacher someday, but not right now. However in this moment, she feels the overwhelming urge to kiss Felix, so she does, leaning up so that their lips brush just a little, barely enough to qualify as a proper kiss.

The door to the training hall swings open with a bang, and Byleth marches in. Suddenly, Felix is ten feet away from her, his face bright red and staunchly looking the other way. Did she misread the signals? Either way, she’s a little embarrassed about the whole event- the not dying thing was strange enough, and then for her to kiss him? It was so strange that she resolves to never think about it again.

“Where is everyone else?” Byleth asks, not exactly angry, but definitely agitated at the whole sitatuion.

“Still changing and getting weapons. It’s really busy in the knight’s hall,” Felix explains, still not daring to look at Annette.  
  
“Understandable.”

Over the next ten minutes the rest of the Blue Lions arrive, including Dimitri, who holds his lance so tight than Annette swears it’s about to break- and she knows he’s managed to do that before. Mercedes sits beside her, slipping her hand in between Annette’s and squeezing gently, that reassuring smile on her face.

“Is this everyone?” Byleth asks, earning a general sound of approval from the class. “Good. Here are the plans- we don’t know how many of them there are, so remember every element of basic training- pair up if you need to, fall back when you need to. Listen to those around you- they know and see things that you might not.”  
  
“What about formations and stuff?” Sylvain pipes up.

“Good question. We went over this in class a few weeks ago, and the answer remains the same from then. Magic and non-magic users stick together, half and half on either side. Use ballistae and magic orbs where you can. Any further questions?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Thank you for being such a great first class. I’m sorry our time has been cut short by this war. I’ll see you _all_ on the other side.”


	13. 1181-1185

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s still early days in this war, but I heard that your family are aligning with the Faerghus Dukedom. Or thinking about it, anyway. Regardless, my father has no intention of siding with Cornelia, so if my letters slowly stop coming, you know why. I want to keep writing to you, and to everyone else, during this time, so we all keep our sanity. That’s more important than anything else right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really out of character for Felix sort of but also not. idk but he is really soft under all his scary exterior

_12th Garland Moon, 1181_

_~~Dear Annette~~ _

_Annette._

_It’s been three months since we left the monastery, and I never got to say goodbye to you properly. I heard you got on a horse and fled south, back to Dominic, but that doesn’t sound like the Annette I know. The Annette I know would have stayed and fought, at least for a while, and not gone back to the place where she knows she’s not truly valued._

_You’re eighteen now, right? You helped me celebrate my birthday, so I feel it’s only right to write to you. My father is encouraging me to send letters to my friends from the monastery. He says it’ll help me get through the war, but I know it’s because he thinks he can foster better relationships with the lords from the surrounding kingdoms via their children._

_How have you been? How is Dominic treating you? I know you weren’t looking forward to going back, since you wanted to go to Fhirdiad. I heard it’s a hellscape there, with Cornelia suddenly in charge and Dimitri dead or whatever. Not that I particularly care about him- thought it’s a bit shit that he’s dead and we have Cornelia ruling instead._

_I know it’s still early days in this war, but I heard that your family are aligning with the Faerghus Dukedom. Or thinking about it, anyway. Regardless, my father has no intention of siding with Cornelia, so if my letters slowly stop coming, you know why. I want to keep writing to you, and to everyone else, during this time, so we all keep our sanity. That’s more important than anything else right now._

_Hope you’re doing okay,_

_Felix Hugo Fraldarius._

* * *

_  
  
  
27 th Pegasus Moon, 1181_

_Annette,_

_I’ve been waiting for a response from you, and didn’t hear anything, so I assumed my last letter got lost on the way to you. I know there’s a lot of fighting in Southern Faerghus at the minute, so maybe the messenger with the letters got lost or killed or something. Not the end of the world- it wasn’t anything important._

_I was just wondering how you are? It feels a little strange to be writing letters to you in the middle of the war, especially when it’s been almost a year since Edelgard declared war on us. I hope you and everyone from House Dominic are holding up well._

_Truth be told, I don’t care much for your family, since your uncle seems to have sided with Cornelia, and no one seems to have opposed him. Have you heard from your father? I hope so, for your and your mother’s sakes. Apparently he was in Fhirdad with Dimitri before he left this mortal plane. My father thinks he’s still alive, though- he always was one for conspiracy theories, but this one seems a little far-fetched, even for him._

_I hope you’re still singing. I like your songs. I don’t know if I ever told you that, but I do. It’s nice. Your voice is nice. I think songwriting is a very interesting hobby. I quite like music- my mother used to give me piano lessons- but I’ve never been much good at it. That’s why I like listening to you._

_Anyway, hope you’re doing well._

_Felix Hugo Fraldarius._

* * *

_25 th Horsebow Moon, 1182  
  
_

_To whom it may concern;_

_House Dominic._

_Please could this letter be passed on to Lady Annette Dominic?_

_Annette.  
  
_

_I heard from Ingrid that she’s been writing to you too, and she has yet to hear back from you too. Hope you’re okay- we’re all a little worried about you, given the situation. Things are getting more tense between us and the Faerghus Dukedom, which technically you’re a part of. I wish that you could leave House Dominic and come and live here, or with Sylvain or Ingrid._

_I worry about you, though I try not to think about how you’re being treated in there. I just hope you’re safe. Ingrid and Sylvain are worried about you as well, so if you can, it would be nice to send a letter to them as well. Things are changing up here in the north as well, so I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to write to them either._

_Please let me know if you’re okay._

_  
Felix Hugo Fraldarius._

* * *

_  
  
  
29 th Lone Moon, 1182_

_Annette._

_I’m assuming that something is stopping my letters from getting to you, and really, I should have assumed that before now. You’re not the sort of person to ignore someone for two years. It’s a bit stupid of me to have not put this together by now, and truth be told, it makes me more concerned for your well-being. I asked my father if it would be possible to come and see you under the guise of political talks, but he thinks it would be too dangerous._

_I’m not sure why I’m so worried about you. We were never even that close in the academy- I do wonder if Mercedes is writing to you, or if she’s heard from you. I have no idea where she is, though, to go and find her, or to send a letter. I asked Sylvain when I saw him one time, and he doesn’t know either. I think he misses her, but he won’t tell us that._

_They’re doing well, though, Ingrid and Sylvain. Ingrid’s father is still trying to marry her off, but I think she’s threatened enough suitors with physical violence that she’s unlikely to actually find a husband. That’s what she wants, though, so I really can’t blame her for waving Lúin in front of them. Sylvain is still philandering, as far as I can tell, which I have no idea how he’s doing, given that we’re in the middle of a war._

_I hope this letter makes it to you, if nothing else does. And I hope you’re safe. I really am beginning to worry about you._

_Felix Hugo Fraldarius._

* * *

_4 th Red Wolf Moon, 1183_

_Dear Annette,_

_It’s very cold in Fraldarius now. How is it like in Dominic?  
  
I feel a bit strange writing to you when I know that you won’t respond to my letters. It makes me sad, actually, because I have no idea if you’re even still alive, if you even made it to Dominic in the first place. Goddess, I’m not one to pray at all, but now that the thought has entered my mind, I’m definitely going to say a prayer for you. _

_Do you remember on that last day at Garreg Mach? When we were the only two in the training grounds, and you kissed me? Sometimes I think about that, even if I try not to. Why did you do that? I haven’t told anyone about that. It was very strange. No one else has ever kissed me. I don’t know why I dwell on it so much._

_Anyway, that’s not important. If someone else is reading these letters, I’m going to be very embarrassed. I don’t think anyone intercepting letters between Fraldarius and Dominic is going to care about any almost romance between us. Was it that? Was that your intentions? I’m definitely overthinking this whole thing._

_I miss you._

_Felix._

* * *

_9 th Harpstring Moon, 1184_

_Annette._

_  
_ _I’m writing this on your birthday. I heard from my father’s intricate spy network all across Fódlan that you are in fact alive, so that puts my mind at rest a bit. I just hope you’re safe too._

_I also hope you have a happy birthday. Have a nice cake and tea- I know you like ‘crumbs and yums’. You’d probably yell at me if I said that to your face, so it’s probably better that we’re very far apart now. You won’t even get this letter until long after your birthday, if you get it at all. If you do get it, you can tell me all about it._

_Cornelia keeps coming to visit us, to try and convince my father to side with her and stop rebelling. For once, I have to give the old man some credit- he doesn’t put up with her at all. He doesn’t even offer her tea, which I’ve heard her complain about on more than one occasion. It’s funny, because my father is usually so proper about things like this._

_Happy Birthday. Sorry it’s during the middle of a war._

_Felix Fraldarius._

* * *

_17 th Etheral Moon, 1184_

_Annette._

_I heard that you’re supposedly getting married off. You never struck me as the arranged marriage sort, but then again I don’t know much about you at all, it seems. I’d like to think you’re still singing. I’m sure you have a wedding song of some variety. (Maybe it’s like the swamp beasties song, which I’m still yet to hear, by the way.)  
  
My father has tried to have a conversation about arranging a marriage for me, but I’m not interested. He never pushes it though, because he knows how Sylvain has turned out, and doesn’t want me going down that route. I like Sylvain, and he’s calmed down a bit recently, but his behaviour is also almost definitely related to how his father treats crests and marriage and children and stuff._

_Speaking of Sylvain, he’s been living with us since the start of the month. I suppose that’s why I’m writing to you- I can sneak away and write to you because it always takes me so long to figure out what I want to say to you. Sylvain is overbearing, even here._

_My father always wonders why I send so many letters that never get replies. I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s because I don’t know if the person I’m sending them to is alive from one day to another. Every time I hear any news from house Dominic, scarce as it may be, I can only feel relief._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Felix Hugo Fraldarius_

* * *

_1 st Great Tree Moon, 1185_

_Annette._

_  
_ _We met five years ago today. Do you remember? I’m sure you do- you always remember everything. You changed so much during that year- I’ll be honest, I didn’t think much of you at the start of the year, you seemed so small and fragile. But I was very wrong about that- fragile is not a word that can be used to describe you. You’re one of the strongest people I know._

_Do you ever think about that thing the boar made us promise? About going back to the monastery for the Millennium Festival? Sylvain reminded me about it a few days ago. I doubt there’s any point in going- Dimitri and Dedue are dead, there’s a war going on, and we’re all scattered across Fódlan. The monastery is probably ruins, I know I remember Imperial Soldiers tearing down random walls in that battle._

_S_ _orry that I’ve been using you as a diary these part four years. It’s extra strange because I’ve never thought about keeping a diary before, but it feels natural to write to you. I wonder if it’s because I know I’ll never be reading them ever again. I almost hope that you’re not getting them, because the thought of you reading all of this and just ignoring them hurts me in a way I can’t quite explain._

_Yours apologetically,_

_Felix Fraldarius._

* * *

_30 th Red Wolf Moon_

_Annette._

_  
__I’m sending this with an express messenger, in the hope that it gets to you in time. I’m praying to the goddess, a rarity for me, I know. If there’s one prayer she’ll grant me, it’s that this letter is the one that actually makes it into your hands._

_We’re going to Garreg Mach for the Millennium Festival, and we need you there. If you want, you’re welcome to join up with Sylvain, Ingrid and me. If you do get this, I just need you to be safe on the road, because I’ve heard that there’s lots of bandits around._

_My father fully believes that Dimitri is still alive, and is apparently still kicking about somewhere near Garreg Mach. I doubt he even knows what the date is, but we should all go for him, and to honour Professor Byleth’s memory. I know it sounds stupid, but whatever. This could be our chance to do something for this war- to turn the tides. There may not be many of us, but who knows._

_Sorry for my horrific handwriting, I’m writing this very quickly._

_Hope to see you soon.  
  
_

_Felix._

* * *

_10 th Ethereal Moon, 1185_

_Dear Felix,_

_  
I got your letter! I’ve been intercepting the post for the last two months in the hope that I’ll finally get my hands on something, because I remembered about the Millennium Festival and wondered if anyone else did too. I’m so out of the loop now, I have literally no idea what’s going on in the Kingdom anymore._

_I actually got a letter from Mercedes first, so all being well, I’ll be meeting up with her in a week to travel to the monastery. Hopefully we won’t die along the way!_

_I paid a lot to get this letter sent to you, and I’m telling the messenger that he has to find you under any circumstances, so even if you’ve already left Fraldarius, hopefully you’ll get to read this._

_See you and everyone else soon!_

_Annette_

_xx_

* * *

Felix tucks the letter into the top left inside pocket of his travelling a cloak, tossing a coin to the messenger for his troubles. He can feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but suppresses it lest Sylvain have anything to say about it. It’s getting dark now, and he just hopes that the messenger doesn’t get into any trouble on his way back to Dominic.

“From your father?” Ingrid asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

“From Annette, actually.”  
  
“Oh, I’m so relieved to hear she’s okay. What did she say?”

“She’s meeting up with Mercedes to come to Garreg Mach. According to the date, she’s probably just left Dominic,” Felix explains.

“We’ve all been so worried about her silence for these five years. I’m glad she’s okay too,” Sylvain offers to a Felix who seems suddenly very interested in staring into the embers of their slowly dying campfire.

“Have you heard from anyone else?” Ingrid asks Sylvain, who was the one trying to organise this reunion, despite how unlikely it was (impossible, in some cases) that everyone would be able to make it to the monastery.

“As far as I know, Ashe was also meeting with Mercedes, so those three are together. I have no idea where Flayn and Seteth would be, but Flayn knew about the plan before so we just have to keep our fingers crossed. Dorothea has been on the borders of Garreg Mach for months, so that’s how I know everything. As for Ferdinand and Marianne… anyone’s guess whether they turn up or not.”

“At least we’re trying,” Ingrid sighs. “We should probably start sleeping, though. We’ll need to be up early in the morning to cover more ground between here and Garreg Mach.”  
  
“Can’t believe we basically had to kidnap you from your own house,” Sylvain grins.  
  
“It was not a kidnapping. It was… a very fast, mostly unplanned get away.”  
  
“I’ll take first watch,” Felix says quickly to interrupt them. “You two get some sleep.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't put it in because it's wholly from Felix's pov, but it's very important that you all know that Ingrid and Sylvain shared a Knowing Look


	14. Ethereal Moon, 1185

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’s really trying to figure out who this mystery soldier is, while also concentrating on dispatching bandits, when she sees the flash of a relic that draws her eye to the centre of the fray. That’s immediately recognisable as Areadbhar, and Annette feels that sickly feeling return to her stomach- Dimitri is alive after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I named Annette's uncle Charles bc apparently that's the first name of the priest at the start of Les Mis and since her middle name is Fantine that made sense to me!

Annette hates travelling at night. Being raised on a kingdom that loves fairy tales will do that to a girl- she spends the whole trip from a small village on the edge of Dominic territory to Garreg Mach worried that some scary creature will jump out at her from behind a tree every time they enter a more forested section of the track. It doesn’t help that they can’t travel with lamplight, lest they get caught by bandits or worse, Imperial soldiers.

But being with Mercie and Ashe makes it slightly better- they share hushed stories of memories from the monastery, catching up on gossip from the last five years. This is mostly filling in information for Annette, who has missed out on so much living in House Dominic.

Her uncle Charles is a caring man, and in the five years she stayed there, she never once felt like she was uncared for. However, almost from the moment she stepped foot into what was often described as ‘his house’, despite it technically being her father’s, she was acutely aware of the fact that she was an adult, and shouldn’t really have to listen to him, or any of his numerous bad ideas.

Joining the Faerghus Dukedom was one of those bad ideas, Annette laments in quiet moment, as Mercie and Ashe discuss the things they might be able to cook if the big ovens in Garreg Mach are still working. Charles put most of the family in danger by doing this- though they were technically aligned with Cornelia and by default the Empire, there was no telling what the rebelling houses would have done if they had decided to overthrow Cornelia.

Or what the Empire would have done to House Dominic if the rebellion killed Cornelia.

It’s scary to think about, and even worse when they’re travelling at night over vaguely familiar roads that they can barely see in front of them. Ashe insisted a few hours ago that they were really close to the monastery, and if they followed this path they would make it to Garreg Mach town. It would apparently be safer to find refuge there for the night and continue to the monastery in the morning, but Annette knows that supposedly there are many bandits living in this area.

A few hours have seemed like days, and Annette is almost falling asleep on the back of her horse. It’s not even her horse, and that’s half the issue. It’s a small horse from the village which she paid a tidy sum to “borrow” and she feels bad about essentially stealing a horse, but it’s for the greater good, and technically her father owns the land that the horse lived on so technically (she argues to make herself feel a little better about theft) the horse is her horse.

She’s not used to it, though. It walks differently from the horse she keeps at House Dominic, and the saddle isn’t made from the same leather. The stirrups are also a little bit too long, and with no way to adjust them, they keep slipping off her feet if she doesn’t keep them perfectly still. Her thighs are sore from riding for so long, and she almost feels like giving up and walking the rest of the way, when she hears the all too familiar sounds of battle up ahead.

“We should drop back,” she warns immediately, stopping her horse with her heels.

“No,” Ashe says, riding a little further up ahead. “This is Garreg Mach town’s outer wall. If there’s fighting in there, it’s probably… the Blue Lions. We should help!”  
  
“Let’s get a little closer and survey the situation first, okay?” Mercedes suggests. “If it is the people we’re here to see, we should definitely help out! Especially since a lot of them don’t know healing magic, and there will likely be injuries.”  
  
Annette nods in agreement, a worried feeling settling heavy in her stomach. The trio navigate towards a gap in the wall, and Ashe nocks an arrow, pointing it through the crumbling wall. Annette readies a wind spell in the palm of her hand, but is disappears when Ashe pushes through the wall, Mercedes on his tail, forcing Annette to follow them.

They dismount from their horses, tying them up as best they can on a slightly worse for wear gate. Annette glances behind them- a cursory check that they aren’t being flanked. There’s no sign of anyone there, and the fighting sounds continue from up ahead. Ashe stops suddenly with a gasp, loosing two arrows into two bandits that quickly approach. Whether this is their fight or not, Ashe, Annette and Mercedes are now very much involved.

Luckily for them, it is their fight, and Annette feels relief flood her chest as she sees Ingrid and her Pegasus swoop down on what looks like the bandit leader. Clearly, they’ve got here a little too late, but the leader looks like he’s making an escape, so the three of them rush forward, ready to help as best they can.

Annette shoots spell after spell from the palm of her hands, tripping up bandits and if she’s lucky, severing a limb or two. She’s well out of practice, but the thrill of battle and finally casting spells in actual battle instead of at a training dummy (that she’s terrified of breaking in case they never get another one) excites her beyond words.

She almost thinks she’s dreaming when she knocks down two opponents with one well timed and placed Excalibur spell, and through the mass of fighting she gets a glimpse of mint green hair that could only belong to one person. Professor Byleth is alive, though what she’s been doing for these five years is a complete mystery to her. There’s someone fighting alongside her that Annette doesn’t recognise- a man well over six feet tall with a cape so dirty it looks like someone died in it.

She’s really trying to figure out who this mystery soldier is, while also concentrating on dispatching bandits, when she sees the flash of a relic that draws her eye to the centre of the fray. That’s immediately recognisable as Areadbhar, and Annette feels that sickly feeling return to her stomach- Dimitri is alive after all.

Between Dimitri and the Professor, the bandit numbers drop quickly, a considerable number of them choosing to flee when they see they’re outnumbered. A few hang around the edges of the battle, and Annette fires off a few weak spells in their direction to act more as a deterrent than to actually hurt them. If they leave now, they’re not hurting any of them any longer.

The second the last spell leaves her hands, Annette feels like she’s lost all the energy she’s ever had- and she was tired to begin with. Being out of practice is really taking a toll on her, but she heads back towards her horse, determined to at least stand there until Mercedes and Ashe join her. She barely makes it two steps, however, before her knees give out and she finds herself falling.

She doesn’t fall very far, though, as a strong arm reaches out to catch her, wrapping itself around her waist and pulling her towards her mystery saviour. She looks up to see Felix, who doesn’t look at all happy to see her. In fact, he looks grumpier than the last time she saw him, if that was even possible.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, trying to untangle herself from him. It doesn’t work- he seems to just hold on tighter.

“What were you thinking, trying to go back to your horse on your own when you can barely walk?” He chastises. “Especially when there are still bandits around. You could have died.”  
  
“Hello to you too,” she grumbles. “I’m not dead, so you can let go. I can make it the twenty feet to my horse, thanks.”  
  
“I doubt that. You can ride with me so you don’t fall asleep and slip off your horse.”

“No way. I’m not leaving that pony here, the bandits will steal it and eat the poor thing.” She can barely string a sentence together, so she doesn’t really know why she’s arguing so much. Despite her words, she rests her head on his shoulder, and can feel his muscles tense under her cheek.

“Come on,” Felix coaxes, his tone suddenly a lot softer. “I’m sure Mercedes will bring your horse.”  
  
“Mmkay…” Annette eventually relents, head too foggy to really keep arguing. Felix walks her back to Ingrid and Sylvain, who are mumbling something that Annette presumes is about Dimitri or the Professor.

“Annette!” Ingrid gasps. “Are you okay?”  
  
“I’m fine, I just really need a nap,” she manages to say, suppressing a yawn.

“I’m going to take her on my horse,” Felix says, and suddenly Annette is no longer on the ground. She assumes that Felix has lifted her, but she can barely keep her eyes open so it’s hard to tell.

“Of course you are,” she vaguely hears Sylvain say, followed by a snort from Ingrid.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Felix accuses, pushing himself up on the horse behind her, arms coming around either side to take the reins.

“Nothing. Have a good sleep, Annette!”  
  
“I will, thank you!”  
  
Her head lolls backwards towards Felix’s chest as the horse begins to move, and Annette finds herself falling asleep before she can decide that falling asleep on the boy that she kissed five years ago and is probably in love with maybe isn’t the best idea.

* * *

The monastery is in a worse state than Annette imagined, with dust on almost every surface. Despite the gates being open and every room unlocked, it doesn’t look like anyone’s been in here in five years. She thought that some of the Imperial Army would’ve made it a base, but clearly no one has been able to get inside the main building, merely skirting around the grounds.

Sylvain and Seteth silently decide to be the ones to clear the dead bodies littering the steps to the Goddess Tower, Mercedes standing at the bottom of the steps and saying a prayer for every soldier that passes her. There isn’t enough time or space to give each of them an individual grave, so Gilbert and Dorothea spend the first day back digging a space just outside the monastery for a mass grave. Though the Imperial soldiers are their enemies, their deaths look brutal.

Dimitri is a different man now, like the man that he was in their last month at the monastery, but so much worse. He stands in the Cathedral, in front of the crumbling remains of the Seiros statue that once made up the centrepiece of the church. He speaks to no one, refusing even to look in anyone’s direction. He doesn’t move all day, doesn’t seem to sleep.

Annette and Mercedes take it in turns to bring him a portion of dinner at least, even if he refuses to eat anything else. They always leave it on the pews, a good distance from where he stands. Though they never see him eat, he always leaves the tray empty, whether he eats it or feeds it to the rats. He must sleep at some point too- Annette isn’t convinced he’d even still be alive otherwise.

She spends most of her time cleaning now, trying her best to get the monastery in tip top shape. The first step was to deep clean the kitchens so they could all eat safely. Once this is done, and Mercedes and Ashe start on dinner (notably without Dedue, which makes Annette’s heart sting), Annette starts on the bathhouse, knowing that after all that time on the road everyone will want to get clean.

Everyone is in charge of their own dormitory, and Annette is surprised to see how little hers has changed in the last few years. She shouldn’t be, really, but when she left home she was expecting to see the whole room destroyed. But everything is still in its place, with just a thin layer of dust covering it. With a cloth and a mop, the room is easily cleaned, and she makes her way on to Mercedes’s room, hoping to be helpful.

It takes just a few days to get all the necessary areas of the monastery fit for purpose. Still on a high of being useful, Annette makes her way around the less essential areas, ending up in the library. The dust is the worst here, she thinks, especially since she never saw it be cleaned when she was a student- who knows how long the dust has been gathering?  
  
She’s just finishing one of the high shelves, singing a tune to herself when she’s rudely interrupted by Felix, who scares her into almost falling off the ladder to a certain death. She’s too flustered by the whole event to realise that singing to him is a bad idea, and it’s only when he questions her lyrics that the embarrassment really sets in.

“It’s a work in progress,” she huffs, turning her back on him in order to go back over the same shelf. “Are you here to make yourself useful? I haven’t seen you clean a single thing since we got here.”  
  
“I was clearing the stables with Ingrid, and then we did the training hall and the Cardinal’s Room.”  
  
“So nothing really useful then?”  
  
“And the library is?”  
  
“I’ve done everything else, so…”  
  
“Why are you arguing with me?” Felix asks, and Annette finally looks round to him with a sigh.  
  
“Sorry. I’m just really tired, and you know… there’s a lot going on.”

“I get it.”  
  
He holds a hand out to her, helping her down the ladder. She almost doesn’t want to let go of his hand, and seeing him up close like this brings all the feelings she had for him at the monastery flooding back. She had tried very hard to ignore those feelings in the five years they didn’t see each other, but it’s increasingly clear to her that they’re still there, when she looks up at him and sees how his features seem sharper, how his shoulders are broader, how he makes half an effort to smile at her.

“You’ve grown,” he says blandly.

“Two whole centimetres. Plus different shoes that add a few more centimetres.”  
  
“You look well. Better than you did the other day when you fell asleep on me, anyway.” There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, one that turns Annette’s cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“Ugh, Felix! You’re such a-“

“Villain, I know. Not the first time you’ve called me such a thing.”

“Well, you are,” Annette states matter-of-factly. “Teasing me, sneaking up on me, laughing at my songs…”  
  
“How many times do I have to tell you that I like your songs before you believe me?” Felix asks, perching on the edge of one of the tables.

“You just asked a question about the lyrics as if you hated it!”

“I just want to know what happened to the library,” he says with a shrug. “First you said ‘and then it all goes boom’, and then the library was clean? But surely the boom would have blown it away.”  
  
“It’s not real, Felix,” Annette sighs.

“Fine, okay. But I did enjoy it. It was a nice song.”  
  
“Well… thanks, I guess.”

“Sorry, um… it’s been a while. Since I’ve had a proper conversation with anyone other than my father.”  
  
“It’s okay. I know it’s strange, being cooped up for all that time. I literally had to run away from home to get here.”  
  
“Do your family know you’re here?” Felix asks, trying to hide how impressed he is.

“Yes, I left a note. It feels a little stupid, but I just wanted to see everyone and feel… useful.” Annette crosses the small gap of the floor between them and sits beside Felix, tying her hands together.  
  
“Well, you cleaned the whole monastery almost singlehandedly, did you not?”  
  
“Yeah, I guess.”  
  
“Then you’ve already been useful. We wouldn’t be able to eat or bathe without your help. And when the Empire come knocking on Garreg Mach’s doors, I’m sure you’ll be the one to push everyone back.”  
  
“Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?” She asks, glancing sideways at him.

“I try to be nice you all the time,” Felix points out. Annette furrows her brow in response.

“Really? Because you don’t always do a great job.”  
  
“Well, I’m trying, okay?” Felix says, sliding off the table. “I may not be the easiest to talk to, but I just… listen, a lot has changed in five years. I want to be able to protect everyone here, so don’t get in my way.”  
  
Annette can’t help but notice the blush in his cheeks, the twitch of his fingers. There’s something he’s not saying, but Annette isn’t quite sure if he’s deliberately hiding something or if she’s supposed to be able to figure it out from what he’s saying from his vague comments. Regardless, she doesn’t get the chance to ask him, as Felix slinks out of the room, leaving his angry aura in place.

There’s something about his ever changing energy that Annette finds herself drawn to. She thought (hoped) that she’d see him after five years apart and she would hate him, or at least that the feelings she thought she might have been developing for him would have diminished. But absence makes the heart grow fonder, she supposes, and though she maybe does hate him, a little bit, she can’t deny that she definitely has a soft spot for him.

As Annette finishes up in the library for the day, she finds herself finishing the song she sang for Felix, rife with inspiration after their conversation that went in every direction except the one she was expecting. She drags herself back to her room, feet heavy underneath her. At least it’s not dusty, she laments, falling face down on the bed and trying not to dwell on a certain raven haired swordsman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annette: oh no he's hot  
> Felix: get out of my school


	15. Guardian Moon, 1186

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you want, Sylvain?” Felix sighs, folding his arms across his chest.
> 
> “Is it lady problems? Because I can probably help in that department. I’ve seen the way you act around-“
> 
> “It’s not lady problems, Sylvain. Unlike you, I have self-control, and also a brain. I don’t get lady problems.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone reads this chapter as romantic I'll steal your kneecaps (No annette this chapter which wasn't really planned but I couldn't fit her in anywhere! oops)
> 
> TW for sort of suicidal thoughts a little bit (it's just one line)

Garreg Mach is oddly quiet without the usual hustle and bustle from the monks and nuns going about their daily business. Truth be told, it wasn’t until someone else pointed it out that Felix actually noticed why it was quieter- it had been ingrained in his mind for a long time that the monastery was the location of the Officer’s Academy, and he had never quite processed that it was also, in fact, a monastery.

It’s so much different now though. Before, security was tight, but only in the form of a few guards and a rotating sky watch consisting of maybe five people on a good day. Now, there are constant patrols around the grounds, armed guards on the gates in rotation twenty-four hours a day, and the sky watch moves further away from the borders of the monastery, looking far away just in case anyone approaches.

Felix hates patrol. They take it in turns, and spend eight hours a day every other day wandering the monastery on high alert. No one is yet to spot anything, anyone, but Seteth and Gilbert both deem it necessary, so he shuts his mouth and stops complaining.

He’s scheduled with Sylvain every time, and as reluctant as Felix is to admit it, it could be worse. They walk in circles around the monastery, alone, their paths crossing twice on each circuit. Felix thinks this is ridiculous, because if they’re attacked, there might not be anyone else nearby to help, and then the whole monastery could be invaded while his dead body lies on the walls.

It’s a very macabre way of thinking, he’s aware. But he’s increasingly aware of his own mortality now that they’re in the middle of a war, and he already knows people who have died, including many soldiers from Fraldarius territory who were sent out and never returned. There’s a very strange feeling he has about the war, and his own place in it, and it all comes down to one thing- his brother.

He is now older than Glenn ever was. When he turned nineteen, one year into the war, he became aware of this fact. He shouldn’t have made it to nineteen at all, not when Glenn didn’t. Not when Glenn was twice the man he will ever be, Felix laments staring at his feet as they take him around the monastery walls. Now at age twenty-two, he has outlived his role model, and worst of all, he feels bad about it, because it makes him feel like he’s besmirching Glenn’s reputation.

Not that Glenn would care about his reputation, Felix reminds himself, pulling himself out of the depths of his mind to pay at least a little bit of attention to the patrol he’s supposedly on. Glenn would’ve been glad to see Felix taking the war so seriously, he supposes. And maybe if Glenn were still about, he would have sorted Dimitri out by now.

“What are you thinking about?” Sylvain asks as Felix walks straight into him.

“Nothing,” Felix is quick to answer, sidestepping his friend.

“Aw come on, there’s definitely something going on in there. I know a Felix concentration face whenever I see one.”  
  
“You talk a lot of shit, Sylvain.”

“Harsh!”  
  
Knowing that he’s not going to get much further on this leg of the patrol with Sylvain desperate for conversation, Felix gives in, leaning against the wall as he often does, and waits for Sylvain to do the same. With a clunk of armour, Sylvain’s back meets the brick wall, and looks down on Felix, who stares staunchly ahead.

“Look, you might not want to talk about it, but I’ve known you since you were born, and I know there’s something up. You may be good at hiding your emotions from everyone else, but I’d recognise that pout anywhere.”

“What do you want, Sylvain?” Felix sighs, folding his arms across his chest.

“Is it lady problems? Because I can probably help in that department. I’ve seen the way you act around-“  
  
“It’s not lady problems, Sylvain. Unlike you, I have self-control, and also a brain. I don’t _get_ lady problems.”  
  
“Okay, okay. Then… do you want to share?”  
  
“I was just thinking about Glenn.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“See, I knew you wouldn’t like it, which is why I didn’t want to tell you. Are you going to let me get back to the patrol?”  
  
“Yes, actually,” Sylvain agrees, prising himself away from the wall. “On the condition that when we meet again at the front of the monastery to swap over with Dorothea and Ferdinand, you tell me about what you’re thinking about.”

“Wait, are we nearly done?” Felix asks. He wasn’t aware that they’d been outside for that long.

“Uh, yes? This is our eighth lap of the monastery grounds. Every other time you’ve seen me you’ve completely ignored me. How many potential dangers have you walked past?”  
  
“Goddess knows. Who cares? I’m not dead.”

With that, Felix stalks off, trying his hardest not to cry, because he can’t remember when the last time he cried was, and he doesn’t want it to be now. He didn’t realise it at the time, but something about Sylvain’s words really got to him. Ever since Glenn’s unfortunate passing, Sylvain always acted as an older brother to him, and loathe as he is to admit it, Felix really does appreciate his presence (but only when he actually wants it).

By the time he reaches the front of the monastery, Sylvain is already waiting, and he slings an arm around Felix’s shoulders, leading him towards the dining hall. Felix is quick to shrug him off, but for once, he doesn’t say anything derogatory towards Sylvain, opting to keep his mouth shut and just glare straight ahead instead.

They get dinner, mostly cold, from the dining hall, which is almost empty at this time of night. It’s a mostly silent meal, with Sylvain making a few passing comments which are easy to ignore for Felix. The food starts to taste like eating tree bark after a while, so Felix puts down his fork, and stares at what he assumes was supposed to be Garreg Mach Meat Pie. Clearly, Mercedes and Ashe had passed on cooking duty today.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Sylvain asks when he finally finishes his own food.

“I just walked for eight hours, Sylvain.”  
  
“And you didn’t feel a second of it,” the older man points out. “But fine. Let’s go to the Knight’s Hall. No one is ever in there, and it’s warm.”  
  
Felix didn’t have an argument for that- he’d only ever seen Catherine and Shamir in there before, and neither of them were likely to care about his traumatic past if they were to overhear anything. It’s only when he walks into the room- warm, as Sylvain had said it would be- that he sees another potential issue seated on a long bench.

“Should you not be with the boar?” Felix practically spits at Gilbert, who has the decency to look affronted by Felix’s verbal attack.

“Professor Byleth is with him currently, so I might have a break.”

“Well, you can have that somewhere else.”  
  
“Whoa, Felix,” Sylvain steps in, glancing nervously from Felix to Gilbert and back again. “Gilbert is fine. We can sit at the other side of the room.”  
  
“No, it’s fine,” Gilbert replies, getting to his feet, his eyes narrowed in concentration at Felix. “Good evening to you two.”

With a clunk of armour, Gilbert disappears from the Knight’s Hall, and Felix falls into his abandoned seat, crossing his arms across his chest. Sylvain hesitates for a moment, hovering by Felix’s side until he eventually sits opposite him in a comfy armchair. Felix doesn’t seem to really notice Sylvain’s presence at all, staring into the glowing embers of the fire. It hasn’t been stoked in a few hours, so Felix tosses a small log onto it.

“What’s up with you? First you space out for seven laps of the monastery, then you walk into me, then you shout at Gilbert? I know you’re grumpy, but this is new, even for you.”  
  
“Like I said, thinking about Glenn.”  
  
“Okay, and why? What… specifically?”  
  
“Why are you asking these sorts of questions?” Felix asks, immediately on edge. There’s something different about Sylvain, and he can’t quite put his finger on it.  
  
“I’ve been talking to someone who seems to know a lot about feelings and helping others, it doesn’t matter.”  
  
“Mercedes?”  
  
“Yes. Anyway, just answer the question.”  
  
“Just thinking about how I turn twenty-three next month and Glenn died when he was nineteen. How I’m older now than he’ll ever be.”  
  
“What happened to Glenn was a tragedy. You… you’ve gotten lucky, Felix. That’s something that I’ve realised recently- that all of us are lucky to have made it this far. You know there are plenty of Kingdom soldiers that have died even younger than Glenn, and their bodies have never made it back to their families. At least you got to bury Glenn.”  
  
“I wish they’d buried me instead.”  
  
“Felix! Don’t talk like that.”  
  
“Why not? Glenn was a better person than I’ll ever be.”  
  
“Glenn was a different person than you’ll ever be.”

That sentence hits Felix right in the heart, and he glances up from the fire to Sylvain, shock in his eyes. Sylvain looks sincere, an expression Felix is truly not used to seeing on his friend’s features. He drops his gaze to his lap, not willing to admit out loud that Sylvain has a point.

“I barely even know who I am any more. I’ve been trying to be Glenn since I was, what, seven?”  
  
“You’ve been trying to _be_ Glenn since you were fourteen. You tried to be _like_ Glenn before that.”

“Saints,” Felix swears. He holds his head in his hands, trying to quell the feeling of nausea rapidly rising in his stomach.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m sorry I said all that.”  
  
“No, you’re right, and that’s why I’m freaking out about it.”

“Oh. Maybe you should talk to Mercedes too.”  
  
“Do you not think that she has enough on her plate being everyone else’s therapist?” Felix snaps. “She doesn’t need to be mine too.”

“Okay. Okay… I feel like you’ve got a lot of stuff to talk about. So even though I’m definitely not well enough equipped to listen to your issues, I’m going to, because I love you.”

“Gross,” Felix murmurs into his palms.  
  
“I’m serious!”

Felix lifts his head slowly, regarding Sylvain with a curious stare. In this moment, Felix remembers the countless things that Sylvain did after Glenn died despite his own grief- bringing him dinner when he didn’t want to eat, sitting in silence when he didn’t want to be alone, being the only person to stick up for him when Ingrid’s feelings became too much for her to deal with in silence.

“Fine,” he relents, avoiding Sylvain’s gaze.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I spent thirteen years of my life looking up to him, knowing that if I could be even a little bit like my brother I would have succeeded as a person. I knew that being the second child came with freedoms that being the firstborn didn’t, and looked forward to being able to travel and make my own decisions. I knew Glenn would be the head of House Fraldarius, so I didn’t have to worry.  
  
“Glenn taught me literally everything I know. Well, I guess everything until we came here. So… when he died, it wasn’t just that my brother wasn’t around anymore. Literally everything I had ever thought about him, my father and myself changed overnight. He was gone, my father started spouting all the bullshit about how his death was the right thing to do, and I had to learn how to be the heir of a house I suddenly didn’t care about at all.

“So now that I’m older than Glenn got to be, I’ve been thinking about how I really do not deserve to stand in his shoes, to take… to take his place. Because I’m not even half the person he was, because I’ve been trying to be him for almost half my life and I have no idea what I was like before because all that time before Glenn died is mostly a blur, and all I remember from after that is feeling angry all the time.”

Felix ends his rant with wide eyes and heavy breathing, his hands curled into fists, resting on his knees. He feels angry even now- this is the first time he’s properly spoken about this out loud, rather than in vague sentences here and there. And he’s vaguely aware, somewhere at the back of his brain, that the person he really needs to be saying all this to is his father, and not Sylvain.

As this thought registers, Sylvain makes his presence known once more, getting to his feet and sitting beside Felix. He hesitates for a short moment before putting his arm around Felix shoulder, which would be more comforting if he weren’t wearing armour. Felix doesn’t move, which in itself is proof that Sylvain’s comfort is working.

“Have you told anyone else all that?” Sylvain asks, not daring to look at Felix as he slowly relaxes.

“No. I try not to even think about it most of the time.”  
  
“Well, I don’t blame you. There’s a lot there… a lot for you to think about.”

“All the time, Sylvain. Constantly being reminded of Glenn every time I even look in the mirror, except it’s not his eyes looking back at me.”

“You need to tell Rodrigue about this,” Sylvain mumbles.

“I can’t,” Felix emphasises. “Any time I see him, the words get stuck in my throat. He won’t listen anyway, because he’s an asshole and I hate him.”  
  
“Alright, I won’t push you. Thank you for telling me.”  
  
Sylvain retracts his arm as Felix unclenches his muscles, letting his palms rest flat upon his thighs. Their silence is uncomfortable now, with everything that’s been on Felix’s mind now laid out on the table. He casts his gaze as far away from Sylvain as possible.

“I’ll tell you this though- I remember who you were before Glenn died, probably better than anyone else. You were kind, and caring, and sometimes you were a little too sensitive to what others thought of you. You were a crybaby! And sometimes, times like these, I can still see that Felix in there. Even if it’s hidden away under layers of pretend that you’ve managed to put on over the years.”  
  
Felix sighs, because Sylvain is right about everything, he always is. He glances back at him, before turning his stare into the fire once more.

“If you ever want me to listen to your myriad of issues, we can do that some day.”  
  
“Maybe leave that for another day. I’ll have to go complain to Mercedes about you first.”  
  
“Do not dare tell Mercedes about this. She’s bad enough, trying to be my big sister or whatever all the time.”

“Fine, whatever. I’ll complain about you without mentioning all of this.”

“Whatever.”  
  
“I do want to ask, though. What was that whole thing with Gilbert? You don’t know him well enough to shout at him. Usually that right is reserved for me.”

“Don’t you know who he is?” Felix asks, turning his head sharply to Sylvain, who shakes his head. “That’s Annette’s dad. But, uh, you didn’t hear that from me.”  
  
“What do you mean? _That’s_ Gustave Dominic? I thought he disappeared.”

“He did. After the tragedy of Duscur, he left Dominic to go to Fhirdiad, to look after Dimitri. After a while he joined the Knights of Seiros, and ended up here. Annette followed him here, and he won’t speak to her. Even after all this time, he barely can look in Annette’s direction.”

“Wow. And so you hate him because you’re in love with Annette?” Sylvain asks, expression changing from shock to smug in half a second.

“What the fuck, no I’m not? She’s… I don’t even know if I’d call her my friend. Though I suppose once we did have a conversation where she said we were friends.”  
  
“Alright, and you spend five years writing letters to someone that’s just your friend. And you catch her when she’s about to collapse and put her on your horse and let her sleep against your chest when you haven’t let anyone touch you for ten years.” His words may be smug, but Felix knows that there’s more to Sylvain’s attack than he’s letting on. It’s sad, almost, but Felix can’t pinpoint why.

“We have a lot in common. Shit dads, uh… she taught me magic.”  
  
“You kissed her hand at the ball.”  
  
“And?” Felix defends, remembering that she also kissed him on the last day at the academy and how he’s spent so long dwelling on that moment. Though it was only a few seconds, the feel of her soft lips against his own remains, like some sort of phantom touch, a permanent reminder of her.

“You’re either lying, stupid, or completely oblivious. I have no idea which one it is, so I’m just going to drop it. You need to sleep.”  
  
“You’ve been awake as long as me.”  
  
“And I need to sleep,” Sylvain agrees. “So let’s go back to the dorms, and we’ll work on you asking Annette out some other time.”  
  
“I am not planning to ask Annette out! We’re in the middle of a war, for Seiros’s sake.”  
  
“Okay, so maybe after the war,” Sylvain teases, getting to his feet. “I’ll make a note of that for later.”  
  
The walk back is more pleasant than the walk there, despite Felix now huffing about something else. Sylvain’s mask of easy camaraderie is helpful, Felix must admit, during times like these- no matter the heavy subject matter of a conversation, Sylvain is serious when he needs to be and effortlessly casual when he has to pick up the pieces.

“Thanks,” Felix mumbles outside the door to his room. His voice is full of sincerity, even if he can’t look Sylvain in the eye.

“Any time. I know you’ve always got my back, the least I can do is have yours too.”

“See you in the morning.”  
  
“Bright and early!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is nothing I hate more in fiction than the female love interest "fixing" a male character so here's some Best Friend Bonding Over Shared Trauma. Annette will return at some point to comfort Felix but not offer solutions to his issues!


	16. Pegasus Moon, 1186

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you want, Annette?”
> 
> “You know, uncle. I’m leaving you here with my father while I go and retrieve Crusher, and you’re not going to stop me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly early chapter this week! Next week's will hopefully be Friday as usual :) An Annette solo chapter to match last week's Felix only chapter!

Annette tries not to worry about the war too much, as she knows that most things are completely out of her control and all she can really do is follow commands when they’re on the battlefield. But that doesn’t stop the worry from happening regardless of her best efforts- every day there seems to be something new that’s a cause for concern.

Usually, these concerns are minor issues which she panics about for five minutes and five minutes later laughs with Mercedes about. Often times it’s a batch of cookies she burned because she was distracted with cleaning or having a conversation with a friend. On other more serious occasions, it’s frustration at not being able to do more to help Dimitri- even though she understands that logically, there’s nothing she can do to help someone in his condition.

In an odd way, she considers Dimitri to be something of a sibling to her, after learning that her father originally left her family to take on the mantle of looking after the crown prince. With no family left of his own, Annette supposes that it really wouldn’t be so bad to be his family, were it not absolutely terrifying to be in his presence. She doesn’t have any siblings of her own, and a part of her has always yearned for a companion close in age to herself, like Dimitri is.

It’s not the same as friendship, Annette thinks. She’s heard Mercedes talk about her estranged younger brother with a sense of wistfulness, a hope that he’s still about somewhere and is still safe. Ashe talks about his siblings- those who he looks after, something that Annette loves doing and freely admits to. She remembers how Dedue spoke of his sister, a tender tone reserved for her, so different from the way he spoke of everyone else- a reverential memory that he was determined to protect.

When she sees her father passing by in the monastery, always on one errand or another, it comes as a stark reminder to Annette how fractured their family really is. She supposes it’s better than having no family at all, but when she sees her father rushing around, talking to the Professor, to Alois, to Seteth, and not sparing a glance her way, it makes her heart sting in a way that she can’t really put into words.

If he isn’t interested in being the head of House Dominic, Annette wonders if there’s any way that she could play her part in the upkeep of what has been her family’s legacy from the days of the Ten Elites. She has no interest in being the Baroness, and never has had any interest, but she still has a lot of interest in her family’s traditions. One springs to mind immediately, and Annette begins to formulate a plan.

It begins in the library, with books on magic weapons, and the costs of wielding them. It doesn’t seem too complicated, so she heads down to the marketplace the next morning and begs the blacksmith to give her a Bolt Axe. Luckily for her, the training grounds are empty before lunch (a surprise in all honesty, given that Felix practically lives here).

She swings the axe against the training dummy a few times, revelling in the feeling of magic from her fingers being transmuted into raw power as the axe makes contact with wood. It’s even more interesting, she thinks, because she’s never really been all that good at Thunder magic spells- her Thunder spells are embarrassing at best and non-existent at worst. But this is a different kind of magic- the axe is doing all the work for her, and it feels excellent.

The next step in her plan brings her back to the library, returning the book on magic weapons (though there’s no librarian to return it to anymore, Annette still writes in the book left at the desk every book she checks in and out). This time, she lifts a horribly heavy book from the top shelf, one that Seteth tried to discourage them from reading but never outright banned.

It’s pages and pages on information on the ten Heroes’ Relics- beginning with Areadbhar and working the way through to Thrysus. There are additional pages at the back which Annette finds interesting too- a detailed report on the Sword of the Creator, though most of it seems to be made up, as Annette has seen it in real life and is almost certain that it doesn’t burst into flames when in contact with an enemy.

There is a mention of a twelfth Hero’s Relic too- another sword, though unlike the other eleven described in the pages of this encyclopaedia, there are no pictures of it, and a scribbled description, seemingly on a spare page at the back, not printed neatly like some of the other Relics. Annette wonders if it’s a last-minute addition, and files the information away in case it ever becomes relevant again.

She’s most interested in the third Relic in the book, and spends hours taking notes on Crusher. It’s depicted as a heavy weapon that Annette isn’t sure she’ll even be able to lift. It seems to work in the same way as the Bolt Axe, and though she only trained with that weapon for a number of hours, she felt confident in her ability to use is as an extension of both her axe abilities and her magic skills.

Come to think of it, Annette realises while pondering Crusher, why did her Uncle raise her to learn both axe and magic had he not wanted her to eventually inherit Crusher? None of his own children ever showed much interest in magic, all of them wanting to pick up the sword or either being entirely uninterested in combat. Annette always thought her cousins strange for this, but knew to keep her mouth shut lest her lessons stop.

The only thing left in Annette’s plan was to get her hands on the Hero’s Relic herself. If it were so simple she would just march up to the doors of House Dominic and ask politely and probably be handed Crusher with no further questions asked. Unfortunately, things were not so simple, given that they were in the middle of a war.

She considers writing a letter, but with House Dominic still allied with Cornelia and the Faerghus Dukedom, she reckons that’s probably not the best idea, as the letter probably won’t even make it as far as the gates of her home, never mind into the hands of her uncle. And even if he did read it, after her daring escape not even two whole months ago, she doubts he’d give it to her willingly.

She could steal it, in theory, but she really doubts her abilities as a thief. She can’t even sneak extra scones at afternoon tea without feeling bad about it, and she’s certain that if she even knew where Crusher was kept (in the armoury, logically), she’d be paralysed with guilt before she even got her hands on it.

March up to the door and ask politely seems like the best option, Annette laments, knowing that there is absolutely no way that this is going to end well.

* * *

The first issue arises when her father finds out that she’s paying a visit to his brother just months after running away from home, and insists that he’s going with her. This is the last thing Annette wants- if Charles sees Gustave, there’ll definitely be a fight that she doesn’t want to deal with. If it’s just her, she hopes, there will be no fight, and if needs be, she can just run away if things get bad.

But her father joins her, as do the rest of the army, because it’s not like they have anything better to do than travel the whole way to Dominic territory for a likely futile mission for a Hero’s Relic. But there are surprisingly no complaints- which makes Annette smile, even if for just a moment before everything goes horribly wrong.

They must have received word of their arrival, troops lining the path to the house, gathered in the woods on the way there. The rest of the army hang back at a safe distance, Annette and Gilbert travelling the rest of the distance, soon coming face to face with her uncle. Annette steels her nerves, swallows the feeling that this is already a disaster, and tries her best to reason with her uncle.

It doesn’t work.

The man had practically raised her, loved her as he did his own children. He didn’t seem to mind one way or another that Annette lived there for five years when his eldest child was off fighting for the Empire, and she sat around moping all day. But now he seems determined to keep her in the house for even longer than he made her stay before, and even the idea of this fills Annette with rage that can really only be channelled through battle.

Fortress Knights surround them, and Annette resists the urge to fight back though she knows that a well-timed Excalibur would be more than enough to topple one of them, giving her enough space to make a break for it. She would have to leave her father behind on this plan however, and while she doesn’t really have any personal qualms about that, she knows that for the good of the army, she has to ensure that they escape together, preferably with Crusher in tow.

In the distance, she can see Byleth and the rest of the army approaching, dispatching enemies to their left and right as they make their way towards the gates of House Dominic. Annette looks around her, left and right, trying her best to figure out how she and her father can escape from the clutches of the Fortress Knights. Gilbert himself has a look of intense concentration etched on his features.

The whole situation has rapidly disintegrated into mass fighting, and Annette takes advantage of the situation, tugging on her father’s sleeve and mumbling suggestions under her breath and hoping that maybe for the first time since she was a child that he’d listen to what she has to say. Fortunately, Gilbert is wiser than she gives him credit for (sometimes, at least) so he listens, and nods, and on her command swings his axe at the back of a Knight at the same time Annette fires off the first in a slew of Excalibur spells.

The first Fortress Knight topples forward with a clang of armour and Annette hops over him, placing a foot in the centre of the armour to balance herself as she fires the next spell at an approaching Paladin. The Dominic troops’ numbers are rapidly dwindling as the Blue Lions tear through, determined to protect their own. Annette smiles when she sees Marianne running in her direction, disregarding the spears thrust in her direction from horsemen intent on her death.

Marianne gives her a quick once over, checking for injuries before joining in with the fight herself, a Blizzard spell firing at a Fortress Knight who is somehow fast enough to sidestep the spell, heading straight towards Charles Dominic. It hits him square in the chest, and Annette flies after the spell herself, her feet carrying her faster than she’s moved before, adrenaline flowing through her blood.

One spell after another pummels her uncle as she swings his axe at her, all her training kicking in as she dodges one slice and ducks under another. Soon enough, Annette’s relentless barrage of spells is enough to bring her uncle to his knees, and she stands over him, fury painted on her face.

“What do you want, Annette?”  
  
“You know, uncle. I’m leaving you here with my father while I go and retrieve Crusher, and you’re not going to stop me.”  
  
He nods, and Annette walks past him, hands shaking with a feeling that’s somewhere between adrenaline and sheer anger. She doesn’t dare glance over her shoulder, in case things are worse out on the field than she expects- just keeps walking, along the driveway, up the steps to the house.

“Lady Dominic!” A surprised servant greets, Annette nodding in response. “What are you doing back?”  
  
“I forgot something when I left,” Annette smiles. “I shan’t be long.”

She’s not sure she’s ever been in the armoury before, and truth be told, she only has a vague idea of where it is. She lived on the other side of the house for her time here, but it doesn’t take her long to find the room, having gone down to the basement (not where she would have put it, but she’s no architect.)

The room is dark, so Annette doesn’t hesitate in lighting a torch with a touch of her finger. Fire magic is not her speciality, but in the five years stuck in the Dominic household, she got good at lighting candles without even having to think about it, and a torch is not much bigger. The armoury seems to go on forever, swords and axes and lances of varying quality, tomes and bows and even a few maces that Annette wouldn’t even know where to begin with using them.

Crusher sticks out like a sore thumb in an armoury full of plain steel and silver weapons. The Crest Stone glows in the dark, and when Annette moves the torch in front of the weapon, the whole thing seems to glow. It doesn’t seem to be under any sort of lock and key, aside from the room itself, Annette supposes, remembering the lock that she had to break with a tiny Wind spell to get in.

It is now that Annette wishes she knew a spell for levitating things, as she glances between Crusher and the torch. She steps forward, laying one hand on the handle of the weapon she had been searching for. A strange warmth emanates from it, and her grip tightens around it, lifting it with ease. It’s a lot less heavy then she expected, and she wonders for the first time if having the Crest of Dominic has anything to do with the ease of her being able to wield this specific weapon.

She gives it a few experimental swings, balancing herself with the torch and being amazed that she doesn’t trip and accidentally burn the whole building down. She gets a certain pleasure from the hum the weapon makes when it makes contact with the air it moves. Grinning, Annette heads out of the room, ready to face anyone else who challenges her on the way out.

* * *

When they eventually make it back to the monastery, late at night, Annette feels ready to collapse from exhaustion. Taking Crusher to the Knight’s Hall to be deposited feels odd, and yet she stacks the weapon beside Lúin and the Lance of Ruin and turns her back on it without a second thought. Her father hovers in the doorway, effectively blocking her way out. She folds her arms across her chest and glares deeply at him.

“You’d better keep your word,” she says, tone accusatory. “You know, about what you promised Uncle Charles. I will _never_ forgive you if you don’t.”  
  
“Annette…”  
  
“No. If you don’t write to mother to arrange some sort of face to face meeting within a week of this war ending, I am cutting all ties to you, okay? And I don’t _want_ to, so… you know what to do.”

She stalks out of the Knight’s Hall, pushing past her motionless father. It’s easy to fall into step beside Mercedes, and Annette rests her head on her friend’s shoulder. Mercedes laughs, guiding her friend back towards the dorms. It’s late enough at night that Annette feels no desire to head to the baths as she usually would- early morning will do for her, thank you very much.

“Long day, huh?” Mercedes asks. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“Strange,” Annette admits. “I broke into my own home, and injured soldiers that fight for my home.”  
  
“Soldiers that fight for Cornelia,” Mercedes reminds gently.

“Yeah, I guess. And I said some horrible things to my father. Things I _meant_ , too. And I don’t really feel bad about it at all. Should I feel bad? I don’t know. And I got a really cool weapon, so I’ll be able to do more when I need to fight. Though I’m not sure I’ll enjoy hauling it all the way to Ailell where it’ll be super warm.”  
  
“It looks like those Hammers that Professor Byleth showed us at the academy, remember?” Mercedes muses.

“Yeah, I thought so too! But it’s not, which is so weird. According to this book in the library, the Combat Arts that I can use because of it is effective against Dragons! So I’m not convinced it’ll be of much use to me at all.”  
  
“Oh, how interesting! I’m sure you’ll find a use for the weapon at some point regardless- I’m so proud of you, Annie.”

“Um, thanks! The last few days have just been… so much. I’m going to be glad to get into bed tonight and just… sleep until noon.”  
  
“Annette Dominic, sleeping until noon? Why, I think the world would end!” Mercedes giggles.

“Knowing me, I’ll still wake up at the same time the sun comes up,” Annette sighs in defeat. “No early morning run for me tomorrow, though. I’m on lunch duty, and I don’t think I’ll have time to do everything.”  
  
“Why on earth did you volunteer for lunch duty after the week you’ve had?” Mercedes asks, suddenly stopping in her tracks. “Wait a second,” she mumbles, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes as she mumbles something under her breath.

“What?”  
  
“Oh, nothing. Just that I know who else is on lunch duty tomorrow!”  
  
“Oh, no, we’re not doing this again!” Annette denies, eyes wide as they climb the first flight of stairs to the dormitories.  
  
“Then why are you volunteering to do lunch duty when Felix is on also, hm? You hate lunch duty, because you can’t make any sweets for it!”  
  
“Well, no one else had volunteered!” Annette is quick to defend. “But keep your voice down. You know all about this!”  
  
“I do, and that’s why I think it’s cute that you keep making these excuses to be near him instead of just… asking him to tea or something! I could make some nice biscuits if you want.”  
  
“As much as I love your biscuits Mercie, there is absolutely nothing about asking Felix to tea that is appealing to me. He’s a terrible tea partner! He can’t hold a conversation to save his life.”  
  
“Oh? I’ve had pleasant tea times with him on many occasions. You just need to get the right conversation starters- more so than with everyone else because they are polite enough to pretend they’re interested,” Mercedes says, hiding a laugh behind her hand. “Did you know he likes cats?”

“No way! Oh, Mercie, if I ever do have tea with him again, I’ll have to bring that up.”

“Well, you’re welcome! Ask him on lunch duty, Annette. I’m rooting for you!”

“Thanks, Mercie,” Annette says, though she doesn’t really mean it because despite her best intentions, there is no way she could make another move on Felix, not after he ran away from her five years ago, and told her to stay out of his way a few months ago. What’s his game, she wonders? Annette isn’t even sure she wants to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't lie I barely edited this so if you see mistakes....... no you didn't <3


	17. Lone Moon, 1186

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not dead.”
> 
> “You weren’t moving!”
> 
> “I went over on my ankle, Annette. It’s not the end of the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slight tw for self harm in this chapter (again, only a brief mention, blink and you miss it kind of deal)

Felix has always woken early, as long as he can remember. As a child, it was to sneak into his parent’s room, and hide under the covers for cuddles with his mother. When she died, his early mornings began in solitude, but they began nonetheless, usually over some toast in the dining hall. After Glenn’s passing, he took to the training grounds before breakfast every day without fail, and the rest is history.

The same occurred at the monastery, with nothing changing for him except that he would add a warm-up run into his routine, heading to the training grounds the long way. This was beneficial, he decided after only a week of doing it, much better than static stretches in the grounds, a chance to build up his stamina in a healthier way than doing ten mile runs whenever he takes the notion for it.

It didn’t seem sensible to stop this routine he had started when he returned home, especially as he found that it was both beneficial and enjoyable. So he kept it up, a long run or jog, followed by a brisk training session, all before breakfast. He has a day off from the morning routine once a week, under the pretence of going to whatever church service was on that day (Felix wouldn’t know, as he never actually went).

On this morning in particular Felix wakes slightly earlier than usual, and unable to figure out why, he decides he may as well get up and start the day, even if the clock says it’s twenty-five minutes before he usually sets his alarm. He turns it off, lest it start while he’s away and wake Sylvain with its incessant ringing, which he would never hear the end of. Even though there’s an empty room in between them, Felix knows that Sylvain would almost definitely find something to complain about.

Once he’s dressed, he pulls his hair into a ponytail as usual, though he doesn’t really care for the overall look as he’ll have to redo it before going to the war council for the day. Felix finds the meetings pointless and boring and long, but he sucks it up and goes anyway, though he never contributes if he can so help it. Recently, he’s been sitting with his arms crossed and glaring at his father, just for good measure, so the man really knows he hates him.

Felix descends the stairs, adjusting his socks a little on the way, trying not to trip on his own two feet, as the stairs is decidedly not the best place to stand on one foot. He makes it outside in one piece however, and almost backs up the stairs when he sees who is also outside at this time of the morning.

Annette fixes her hair into a ponytail too, and Felix kicks himself for forgetting how nice she looks with her hair tied back. He then kicks himself for thinking that in the first place, and then kicks himself one last time for good measure for his legs moving up the steps to approach her. She turns her head to face him when she hears him coming, and her face splits into a huge grin.

“Good morning,” he offers, more out of surprise that anyone else is awake than anything else.

“Good morning! It’s a nice day today, by the look of things. Doesn’t look like it’ll rain, at least.” Her smile is infectious, and Felix can feel one tugging at the corner of his mouth before he forces himself to stop.

“Yeah. Makes a change.”

“Are you going for a run?” Annette asks, and at Felix’s nod, she continues, “we should go together!”  
  
“I didn’t think you were much of a runner,” Felix supplies uselessly. It’s barely an excuse- and not because he wants to run. He just doesn’t want to run with _her_ , because he doesn’t really want to spend much time with her at all recently.  
  
“I used to run all the time in the academy, remember? We used to bump into each other coming in and out. Well, I lost a lot of stamina while back at home because I was pretending to be a proper lady, and now I have to train a lot again so that I can keep up with everyone else.”  
  
It makes sense, Felix thinks. She seems to be taking this seriously- hair tied back apart from the two little bits that seem to always sit perfectly in the middle of her forehead. She wears her lounge uniform from years ago, and old running shoes that have seen better days, and she stretches while explaining her thought process to Felix. He can’t really think of a good reason not to run with her, other than what Sylvain will think, so he relents.

“Alright then. You’d better keep up, though.”

Admittedly, he starts at a much slower pace than usual, but Annette has no problem keeping up with him, even managing to flash him a grin when he glances down at her to check she’s doing alright. They pick up the pace a little, rounding the stables, past the Knight’s Hall. Felix leads her through the gardens where the tables are set up for tea, past the gazebo, and when he glances again Annette is two paces behind him.

Not concentrating on the path, he trips over a stray pebble, and goes over on his ankle, falling not so gracefully onto the grass. Annette is by his side in an instant, falling to her knees and looking at him intently, pressing two fingers to the side of his throat. He swats her hand away, rolling his eyes as he sits up.

“I’m not dead.”

“You weren’t moving!”  
  
“I went over on my ankle, Annette. It’s not the end of the world.”

“You got hurt at Ailell, right? Did anyone see to your injury?” She asks, sitting properly beside him, not worrying about the grass being damp from the morning dew.

“No. Wasn’t time. Everyone was too far away from me, so I just pushed on.”  
  
“Felix,” Annette sighs, and he feels oddly sad about the way she speaks his name. “You should know by now that doing things like that isn’t going to go well for you. Was it your ankle?”  
  
“Burning rock fell on me,” Felix explains casually.  
  
“What? That’s not a minor injury! Let me see.”  
  
“No. It’s fine, barely hurts anymore.”  
  
“You just tripped over a pebble,” Annette points out, lifting the stone in question and waving it in his face to make a point.

Felix doesn’t have the heart to explain that it wasn’t the pebble’s fault, it was hers, because if he had been running on his own there was absolutely no way that he would have tripped over a stone. But he can’t say that to her when she sits so close to him and looks up at him with that worried face, so he takes his shoes and socks off, and looks away while Annette lays her warm hands on his ankle.

There is a notable burn there, and the cobbler in town had commented on the size of the burn mark in his boot when he had brought them in to be mended. And as much as he pretends the injury was nothing, he can’t deny that Annette’s healing magic is doing its job, tidying up a week-old injury like it was nothing.

“There will probably still be a scar,” Annette apologises as he pulls on his socks and shoes once more. “Like I said, I’m kind of out of practice.”  
  
“You say that, but you still dragged us all the way to your house so you could beat up your uncle’s army and steal that massive hammer Relic.”  
  
“Well, that was the adrenaline,” Annette argues. “I was scared.”  
  
“You’re not scared around me anymore, then?” Felix asks, even though he knows he really shouldn’t. Annette meets his eyes with a curious look on her face, as if she’s really trying to figure out the real meaning behind his words.

“I was never scared of _you_ ,” she says softly, tucking her knees to her chest. “I was scared that you’d tell everyone about my songs, and then they’d think me silly and childish.”

“I haven’t told anyone,” Felix points out, and Annette smiles then.

“No, I suppose you haven’t. But maybe it’s worse that you have them all to yourself! Oh, Claude heard one of my songs once as well, but I doubt he still remembers it.”  
  
“You worry too much.”  
  
“Hey! I think everyone needs a healthy amount of worry in their lives, or else they’ll get complacent. Life is full of dangers, you know? Like pretty dark-haired swordsmen who creep up on young girls to listen to them sing.”  
  
“You… Pretty? You called me pretty,” Felix asks. It’s not a word he’s ever heard used to describe himself- he’s heard Sylvain call enough girls pretty, but it comes as a shock when the word tumbles so carelessly from Annette’s lips.

“I! I, um. Well, you know. You are quite attractive. Objectively speaking, I mean.” Annette’s face is almost as red as her hair when Felix looks at her, and he feels something strange in his chest- a feeling not dissimilar to what he felt at their last magic training session, all those moons ago.

“Thanks, I guess. I refute being called a danger, though.”

“The pebble is the danger, right?” Annette laughs, getting to her feet and offering him her hand, which he pointedly ignores.

“Something like that.”

They begin their run again in earnest, Felix glad to note that his ankle is now completely pain free. He almost risks another glance down at Annette, but decides otherwise- she’s been the cause of so many of his troubles recently, through no fault of her own- really, Felix knows that the problem lies solely with himself but he’s still not sure exactly why.

As he ponders this thought, his legs and arms moving without any input from his brain, they round a corner, and who should be approaching but Rodrigue, his arms folded behind his back. Curses, Felix thinks- he had forgotten that his father was also an early riser, and here he was, out for a walk at dawn. Annette slows to a halt beside him, and Felix wonders if there is any chance he can just run past his father and pretend he didn’t see him.

“Good morning, Felix! Miss Dominic, nice to see you.”  
  
“You too!” Annette manages, but Felix recognises that tight tone in her voice as discomfort.

“I’ll see you later, Annette,” Felix says, dismissing her to finish her own run while he inevitably has to stay and converse with his father.

“You know where I am if you need me,” she says, and though he definitely doesn’t know where she’ll be as she is perhaps the most inconsistent person that Felix knows. She’s always doing something, something unexpected, and when she rests her hand on Felix’s forearm briefly to show her support to him, he feels like his whole body is on fire.

“Did you wish to speak with me?” Rodrigue asks, raising an eyebrow at his son, who watches Annette walk away, not paying any attention to his father.

“I have to have a bath,” Felix excuses lamely. It’s not a lie, but if he’s going to confront his father about his issues, he needs a little more time to think. He’s had years, of course, but Sylvain’s words ring in his head- he needs to do this, so that the Fraldarius family can move on to a better future together.

“How about we have breakfast together? I can bring you food to the Knight’s Hall, if you would like some privacy.” Rodrigue’s suggestion is sincere, but Felix can’t help but shake the feeling that there’s more to this conversation than Rodrigue is letting on.  
  
“Sure, I guess.”  
  
“What would you like?”  
  
“Toast. No jam.”

“I’ll meet you there when you’re done. Take your time.”

Rodrigue is the one to move away first, and Felix, suddenly filled with rage, runs on, not quite sure where he’s headed. Away from the training grounds, that’s for sure, his usual routine disrupted. Perhaps it’s for the best, he thinks. There have been years of resentment between himself and his father (mostly one sided, if he’s being honest with himself, which he’s trying to be).

And he’d be naïve to think that one conversation will solve all their issues. There’s enough other things going on at the minute, what with the war, and Dimitri’s still declining mental state. But perhaps, if for once he’s going to be optimistic, they can leave the Knight’s Hall on at least neutral terms, rather than the animosity that he’s been directing towards his father for nearly ten years.

Thankfully, it’s still early, and the bath house is completely empty. Felix takes his time, under the assumption that his father will complete his walk before heading to the Dining Hall. He scrubs at his skin with a fervour that seems to come from nowhere, and it’s only when the steam starts to hurt him that he realises what he’s done. He ignores the stinging for now, instead marvelling at how his ankle feels now that Annette has healed it. He’d gotten so used to the constant dull pain in the past week that it was almost odd that it was no longer there.

He eventually pulls himself away from the bathhouse, dressing and fixing his hair, neatly this time. The walk to the Knight’s Hall feels longer than it probably should. But Rodrigue is there, steam still rising from his cup of tea, so he can’t have been there that long. Another cup sits on the table, beside Felix’s two slices of plain toast. As soon as Rodrigue notices his son hovering by the door, he pours the second cup of tea, and gestures to the spare seat.

Felix sits down, making no attempt to begin this conversation. Where to begin? How much time do they have? Instead he lifts his breakfast and makes a start on his toast, all under the watchful eye of his father.

“I hear from the Professor that you’re always the first on the frontlines in every battle,” Rodrigue comments idly. “You’re doing us proud, Felix.”  
  
“Us?”  
  
“The Fraldarius family.”  
  
“So just you, then.”  
  
“Felix,” his father sighs. “I know that you are still hurting over what happened all those years ago. I am too. I meant your aunt and uncle. As they can have no children of their own, they see you as their own too, meaning they support your every endeavour.”  
  
“Shame they have no children. That would just be another family for you to pull apart, right? When their kids got sent off to war and came back in a coffin, you would tell them that it was great that they died?”  
  
“I think,” Rodrigue begins, before he pauses, taking a deep breath. “I think, in your grief, you have misconstrued my words over the years, which is completely understandable. It was not great that your brother died. It was terrible. Every day of my life since then has been terrible, because I have lost both my wife and had to bury my son. And I have lost you too, Felix, even if you’re still here physically.”  
  
“You wouldn’t have _lost_ me if you weren’t spouting Kingdom rhetoric bullshit all the time,” Felix spits, before turning his head back to his toast. It’s a defence mechanism, really, the need to shout at authority figures because otherwise no one will ever listen to him.

“Over the years, I have… come to see the flaws in the Kingdom’s knighthood system.” This gets Felix’s attention, and he slowly lifts his head, bringing his cup of tea to his mouth to hide his interest. “While I now understand that the glorification of the deaths of many of the talented soldiers is not helpful to many grieving families, that will not stop me from pursuing our family’s duty to the king.”  
  
“ _You_ are pursuing your duty to a dead man. You’re not even helping the man who is supposed to be king, but has been suffering more than anyone else from the Tragedy that took your son. You have tea with the professor and put stupid ideas into Ingrid’s head about how great she’ll be when she becomes a knight.”  
  
“As soon as this war is over, I will fix the knight training system. I will change their duties, with the help of Dimitri, because they boy that was so eager to help his country is still in there, I know it.”  
  
“And what about me?” Felix asks quietly. Rodrigue looks at him sadly.

“I want to help you, but I need you to be willing to be helped. I can’t change overnight, and I don’t expect you to either. But if we listen to each other, I think we can get along a little better. Is that something you would want?”  
  
A little stunned by what seems to be a reasonable request, Felix nods mutely. His father isn’t evil, he knows that well. He has outdated ideas and up until now, didn’t listen. But this is a good sign, Felix knows. It’s a start, a change, and at this point in their relationship, it’s all his going to get.

“How about we have lunch tomorrow? You can take the time between now and then to think of things you want to say to me, questions you have to ask, things you want to yell at me for, because Goddess knows there’s probably a lot more of those than I’m aware of. How does that sound?”  
  
“Fine. Whatever.”

“Great! I will find you tomorrow then. Thank you for your time this morning, Felix. I think this has been productive for both of us, hm?”

With a pat on the shoulder that means a lot more to Felix than he’ll ever admit, Rodrigue leaves the Knight’s Hall. It’s going to be a long process, Felix laments, and though this is only the start, he’s willing to hope, for the first time in a long time, that everything will maybe turn out alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felix: idk why my heartbeat speeds up when I'm near Annette? I probably hate her


	18. Great Tree Moon, 1186

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix turns his head to look at her, something unreadable on his features. Annette opens her mouth to say something, but nothing intelligible enters her mind, so she shuts it again, breaking eye contact with him instead. There is nothing to be said, not really, but she would quite like to know why he continues to stare at her even after she looks away.

The Adrestian Empire is a temperate country, and Annette finds herself acutely aware of that fact as soon as they cross the border. The Alliance is warm too, but the humidity as they cross the Adrestian countryside becomes almost unbearable underneath her layers of Faerghus furs. Perhaps this will put them at a disadvantage in the upcoming battle. In all her years of studying battle tactics and wars of years gone by, never had she considered that the climate could be a deciding factor.

Of course, it’s only when Annette decides to lose her top layer of a wool lined, fur trimmed cloak that it starts to rain. Despite the warmth, the rain still falls cold from the sky, stinging Annette’s exposed skin. So the cloak goes back on, shielding her shoulders from the cloud’s assault.

They’re not even that far south, Annette laments, and it’s not even approaching summer yet. Goddess help them if they ever do march on Enbarr- she now wishes that she had become a dancer after all. Dorothea was from Enbarr, so she would be used to the heat there and wouldn’t need to worry about how much she was sweating while also trying to cast spells and stop people from dying.

Having to sit on the back of a horse that doesn’t seem to know how to walk properly isn’t doing her any favours, either. She suspects that the poor thing is probably injured, but there’s not time to do anything about it, with the Empire marching on Gronder Field and their army now only an hour away. Maybe Marianne can look at it before they go back.

It’s a strange occurrence, coming back here after five years. The first time was strange enough- an all-out brawl against their classmates that ended with a huge feast back at the monastery. Annette suspects that there will be no feast after this battle, whether they win against the Empire or not.

Rumour has it that the Emperor herself will be there, and Annette isn’t sure whether she wants to Dimitri to get his wish now or not. Surely there is a way to negotiate with Edelgard, to join forces and keep Dimitri well away from her? Sure, Annette believed in the Goddess (most of the time), but even she could see that the way the church was ran was outdated and overcomplicated to say the least.

She manages to zone out for most of the rest of the ride to the battlefield, and it’s only when her horse comes to a stop on its own that she realises that they’re there, and the battle is about to begin. She slides off her horse, and makes her way to her position on the field- today, next to Sylvain, Felix and Ingrid on the far left of the field. It’s a bit of a strange combination, Annette is aware, especially as she realises that she’ll have to act both as healer and mage for this battle when she’s will these three.

“You look a bit pale, Annette. Everything okay?” Ingrid yells down from her Pegasus, and Annette responds with a shaky thumbs up.

“We’ll try to keep out of trouble for you,” Sylvain says with a wink. “Can’t promise no injuries, but you won’t have to resuscitate me. Won’t say the same for Felix, though.”

“I won’t get injured either. Ten gold, not a scratch on me.”  
  
“Make it twenty and you’re on,” Sylvain replies, running a hand through his hair. “Got to do our best to make Annette’s life easy, right? Wouldn’t want to be the cause of her stress!”

Felix turns his head to look at her, something unreadable on his features. Annette opens her mouth to say something, but nothing intelligible enters her mind, so she shuts it again, breaking eye contact with him instead. There is nothing to be said, not really, but she would quite like to know why he continues to stare at her even after she looks away.

“Guys, look down there,” Ingrid says, pointing straight ahead of them. “I think we just got more company.”  
  
Instead of the blood red banners of the Adrestian Empire, out from the woods comes a small army, under the bright yellow banner of the Leicester Alliance. They’re a bit too far away from here to see who all is there, but if the Empire have indeed sent Edelgard, Annette has no doubts in her mind that Claude will be leading the charge for the Alliance. And if he’s right in front of them, Annette knows that it will likely be up to her wind spells to take him down- Ingrid can’t get close, Felix hasn’t been keeping up with his bow training, and while Sylvain may be of some help, she knows he and Claude got on well at school, so the chances of him landing a finishing blow are slim.

Dimitri is yelling something Annette can’t quite hear, and all of a sudden, the battlefield is on fire, falling from the sky like rain. That’s their cue to move, even without instruction from Byleth- if they stay still, they’ll be toast. Ingrid is in the sky before Annette has time to react, but Sylvain is shouting at her and her feet work before her brain. She follows Sylvain and Felix down the hill and onto the battlefield, which is rapidly becoming muddy due to the rain.

The Alliance don’t have many soldiers with them, but it’s still not easy, with only the four of them taking on the bulk of their force. Annette wishes the professor could have forseen the arrival of the Alliance army and sent more troops their way. As she has this thought, Ashe and Marianne do head her way, Catherine hot on their heels. Cyril is there too, joining Ingrid in the sky, and Annette feels that maybe, they will be able to win against the Alliance after all.

The Empire is another issue, however, and one that Annette doesn’t have the energy to think about.

They take out Fortress Knights and Snipers with relative ease, and as the pack of soldiers moves further down the battlefield, Annette takes every precaution to keep on top of healing to help Marianne out. It becomes increasingly clear that Claude is leading this charge- no one else in the Alliance would have come up with such a convoluted strategy.

Ingrid and Cyril land briefly, taking a moment to take stock of their surroundings. Their height advantage makes them great for reconnaissance, and with no one in charge to explain what they’ve seen, they start explaining to whoever will listen.

“Claude is definitely here,” Cyril says. “I haven’t seen his face, but there’s someone on an Almyran Wyvern a ways down, surrounded by people who were definitely in the Golden Deer class back at the academy, so they’ve been recruited into the Alliance Army for sure.” Annette’s blood runs cold.

“Who did you see?”  
  
“Ignatz, Raphael and Lysithea for definite. There might’ve been more, but I’m not sure, sorry.”

“Not to break more bad news, but they’ve called in reinforcements too, from the North. They’re a little while away, but it does look like Hilda. We have to finish up down here before she gets to us, or it’ll be big trouble,” Ingrid explains.  
  
“Not an issue,” Catherine chimes in. “We’ve got this, as long as we can work together properly. Taking out Claude is our number one priority right now.”  
  
“Some of us shouldn’t get too close, though. Ingrid and Cyril will easily be taken down by Claude, and if Lysithea still uses that Dark Spikes spell, Sylvain, Marianne and I will also be at risk,” Ashe says, wrapping the reins of his horse around his fingers.

“So that leaves Annette, Felix and Catherine to get close to him,” Ingrid agrees.  
  
“Can you dismount?” Felix asks Ashe. “We need your bow, and the horse is putting you at a disadvantage.”  
  
“Yes, I suppose that makes sense.”

Ashe hops off the horse, and with a silent nod, the four of them take off, further down the battlefield, with Ingrid and Cyril hovering above to provide backup if needed. Annette turns at the sound of hooves in the distance just in time to see Leonie appear, flanked by two more snipers. Without a word, Sylvain heads off towards them, with Marianne following close behind him.

“Any scratches on you?” Annette asks Felix, remembering his bet with Sylvain from the start of the battle.

“Not one. Guess Sylvain will owe me twenty gold after all.” He sounds almost smug, a tone of voice that Annette really isn’t used to hearing from him. He’s usually confident in his abilities, but smug is never a word that Annette would have used to describe him. “Are you doing alright?”

She’s a little taken aback by the question, but supposes it makes sense- an arrow in the shoulder is uncomfortable at best and life threatening at worst, but with Marianne on hand, the arrow had come out with no lasting damage.

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”  
  
“Good. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Annette says, but she doesn’t get to finish her sentiment, as Felix stops in his tracks, throwing an arm out to stop Annette too.

He holds his sword out in front of him, pointing at the mage who stands in front of them. Lysithea has barely grown in the last five years, but she certainly looks a lot different than the fifteen-year-old that Annette befriended at the Officer’s Academy.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she clarifies. “I don’t want to fight here any more than you two do.”

“Then why are you here?” Felix asks.

“I see you haven’t gotten any nicer since the last time we spoke, Felix.”

“Go on ahead,” Annette mumbles to the swordsman. “I can deal with her on my own.”  
  
“No way. She uses Dark Magic- she’s got an advantage over you because her spells are more complicated. Do you know how to deal with them?” Felix asks, worry evident in his voice.

“Not really, but I know how to dodge. I’ll be fine, Felix. Trust me.”

He takes a step away, holding eye contact with her as he does. He’s hesitating, that much is clear, and Annette isn’t sure if it’s because he’s underestimating her or if it’s because he’s worried about her.

“Felix, it’s okay. I’m your girl! I’ve got this.”

He sighs, and nods slowly, before turning away. Lysithea has her full attention now, even though the other girl seems to be making no attempt to fight her. Annette flings a half-hearted Wind spell at her that just about breaks one of the ties holding her hair and veil together, and Lysithea retaliates with an equally lacklustre Miasma.

“I don’t even know why we’re fighting,” Lysithea explains, casting Swarm this time, which Annette has a much harder time dodging. “I think Claude just wanted the chance to have his own go at Edelgard, and here she is, not too far from any of us. And yet he stays over here, in this corner, where he can’t even be attacked by her.”

“I don’t want to fight you,” Annette clarifies- this time, it is a Cutting Gale that she casts. Lysithea barely sidesteps- the spell cuts a gash into her arm, and she clamps her arm over the cut. The spell wasn’t even that fast- it’s almost like Lysithea is trying to die here, despite what she’s saying. “I’m just… I’m just following my orders. You’re opposing the Kingdom, and…”

“You care about your homeland, I get it. I don’t even know why I’m fighting for mine, when all the Alliance has done for House Ordelia for years is screw us over and essentially sell us on to the Empire. We’re a commodity that no one really wants.”

Another Swarm that has Annette falling almost face first into the mud in attempt to dodge, the spell following her around until she takes Crusher and slices right through it.

“Join up with us, then! Come to the School of Sorcery when this is all over!”

Annette casts Saggitae, which Lysithea dispels with a wave of her hand. She’s not even making a real attempt to fight back, something that doesn’t sit right with Annette. She tunes out all the other sounds of the battlefield and casts Excalibur at Lysithea, who lets the spell hit her straight on.

“Listen, Annette. I’m not long for this world as it is. I took down some Empire soldiers earlier on our way here, and I delayed you getting to Claude. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve done my duty to my country.” Annette doesn’t miss her eye roll, nor the implications of what she’s saying.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Annette says, trying to pretend she doesn’t notice the tears running hot down her face.

“You’ve killed before.”  
  
“Not my friends!”

“If you kill me, then I’ll have died at the hands of my friend, rather than because I’m sick. Either you kill me, or the Empire gets another statistic in their schemes to make Edelgard all powerful.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I have two Crests,” Lysithea explains, and Annette clamps a hand over her mouth. “People that I believe are allied with the Empire gave me a second Crest, and they gave one to Edelgard too. I don’t know which ones she has, but she’ll be unstoppable if they activate in battle. So, either you kill me, here and now, and I become an Alliance casualty in a long battle at Gronder Field, or the weird people the Empire are allied with get me as a death in their ongoing list.”  
  
“I…”  
  
“Please.”

Annette looks into Lysithea’s eyes, and sees only longing. There is nothing there that implies that in this moment, Lysithea wants anything other than for Annette to kill her, and though she wants nothing less, Annette cares about Lysithea, and her wishes. Annette lifts Crusher, and deals the final blow.

Lysithea falls to her knees, Annette swooping in to catch her before she hits the ground. She doesn’t look at the wound she inflicted, not caring to think of the pain she’s caused her friend. Despite this, Lysithea looks oddly happy. She reaches up to Annette’s face, cradling her cheek in her palm. It’s not long before Lysithea’s hand falls, limp, against her chest.

Slowly, Annette lets go. She closes Lysithea’s eyes, and mumbles a prayer under her breath.

All around her is death. There are more dead bodies that she cares to count, and panicked, she looks around desperately until she can count every single one of her allies. They have Claude surrounded, but the man in question holds his arms up in surrender, and takes off on the back of his wyvern. Annette follows his trajectory, headed northwards, presumably to pick up Hilda before completing his escape.

With their side of the battlefield dealt with, perhaps not in the cleanest way, Annette turns her head to see how the rest of the army are getting on with fighting the Empire. The fire has razed that side of the field much more than where they stand currently- not only is the field itself on fire, but it seems that the Empire set the wooden structure in the middle of the field alight too, to hinder the Kingdom army’s progress.

Slowly, she makes her way across the field, Sylvain, Felix and Ingrid catching up with her, all with the same purpose- to see if they can help out in any way. As they approach, one thing comes abundantly clear- it’s not going well. An unconscious Flayn sits on the back of Ferdinand’s horse, while Dorothea stumbles alongside it. Mercedes is surrounded by Empire Soldiers, but the real drama is in the fortress.

Edelgard is here after all, and is locked in a fight with Byleth, weapons clashing loudly for all to hear. Dedue is right behind her, taking hits for the Professor that she otherwise wouldn’t be able to withstand. Dimitri lunges back and forth at Hubert, the mage twisting out of the way of every single attack. It’s only when Edelgard falls to one knee, breathing deeply, that Hubert seems to react differently, dashing to her side as the two of them disappear.

“Is that it?” Sylvain asks, sliding of his horse and into the mud. “Bit anti-climactic, if you ask me.”  
  
“No one’s dead,” Ingrid points out as she lands too.

“And Sylvain owes me twenty gold,” Felix says.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, okay. I have no proof that you didn’t get hurt and get healed up, so I’ll buy you a drink when we get back to town, okay?”

“Fine. Knew you’d bail anyway.”

“Stop fighting, you two, there’s more important things going on right now. Annette, are you okay? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so messy after a battle,” Ingrid asks, taking a few steps towards Annette and placing a hand on her shoulder. Her skin is covered in mud from touching her face with muddy gloves and almost falling. There’s a bloody handprint courtesy of Lysithea on her cheek, and blood splatters all over her dress and cloak.

“I had to fight Lysithea,” Annette whispers, doing her very best to stop her voice from wobbling.

“Oh no,” Ingrid says. “Annette, I’m so sorry. I should’ve… we…”  
  
“I should’ve let you go on ahead,” Felix says, stepping up to Annette, unclipping his cape from his shoulders. “Here- dry your face on this. It’s not muddy, I promise.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, quietly, for her ears only. “That was really stupid of me. You would’ve been better against Claude anyway, so… and he wasn’t your friend. Not like she was.”  
  
“It’s okay. These things happen. We all lose people during war, right?”

Ingrid pulls Annette into a hug, and eventually, Annette manages to smile, particularly when Sylvain joins in, attempting to lift both Ingrid and herself off the ground. When she’s released, Annette feels a little more at ease- Lysithea will be at peace now, and she’ll be able to make a nice memorial for her back at the monastery- she would certainly have loved a plaque in the Library, or something like that.

“Hey, what’s going on there?” Sylvain asks, pointing to where Dedue, Dimitri and Byleth stand.

Mercedes and Rodrigue stand not too far away, the former trying to bring Flayn back around, the latter keeping an eye on the argument that Dimitri and the Professor seem to be having from a short distance away. Dimitri hasn’t listened to a thing she’s had to say for weeks, and Annette isn’t sure why he would start listening now.

“Don’t think it’s anything to worry about. We’re too far away to jump in anyway,” Ingrid says with a shrug of her shoulders.

“No, I don’t mean them two. Is that… what’s her name, Fleche? Why is she on the field?”  
  
“Oh Goddess,” Annette murmurs. “It’s not safe for her to be out here!”  
  
Annette begins to move, but only makes it a few steps before time seems to slow down completely. Fleche moves faster, and the glint of the silver of her dagger is clear even with the sky as overcast as it is. Fleche moves towards Dimitri, Byleth notices Fleche’s plan and moves to stop her, but ultimately it is Rodrigue that gets there first, putting himself between Dimitri’s back and Fleche’s dagger.

Annette turns to Felix with shock in her eyes- it’s not hard to tell from the way that Rodrigue fell that that was it- the Shield of Faerghus had performed his duty to the king.

Felix moves to step forward, a cry falling from his lips that doesn’t seem to be any word in particular- a guttural yell that came from within. Sylvain grabs one of his arms, and unceremoniously dropping Crusher in the mud, Annette grabs his other arm, stopping him from running in and doing who knows what to goddess knows who.

It takes a while, but Felix goes from angry thrashing to silent stillness, and Annette really isn’t sure which one is better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there is going to be romance in this eventually


	19. Harpstring Moon, 1186

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ll have a friend for a king. I know you hate him now, but you and his Highness used to be best friends, remember? That doesn’t have to change. I know it might take time, but…”
> 
> “Thanks for your insight, Sylvain,” Felix mumbles into his pillow, still not ready to emerge from under the covers that protect him from the world.

Byleth is the first person to knock on Felix’s door. By locking himself in his room he thinks he’s made it very clear that he does not want to be disturbed, but the Professor doesn’t care or really know about social niceties, and so she stands outside his dormitory and waits for him to respond.

He’s spent the majority of the last few days in here, only leaving to go to the bathroom. It’s been hours and hours of hopeless sleep, listening to feet travelling outside along the wooden floorboards. He’s had no inclination to eat proper meals, merely snacking on dried meat that he regularly stocks up on for long journeys.

“Felix, may I come in?” Byleth asks. “I’ll only be a moment,” she adds after he doesn’t answer.

He shuffles towards the door and begrudgingly opens it. He’s not in the mood to see anyone, not really, but at least Byleth is the least annoying of all the options. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he’s secretly a little glad to see her. Her expression is as blank as ever, and in her hands she holds a tray of food.

“I haven’t seen you at the dining hall, and I figured you must be hungry.”  
  
She passes him to set the tray down on his desk- a bowl of soup, a teapot and a cup, and a Garreg Mach Meat Pie- none of which are his favourites, but they’re all tolerable. Byleth hovers by the door on her way out before turning back to him.

“I want you back in the training grounds by the end of the week. Routine is important, and I know how important it is for you in particular. If you don’t want anyone else there, you know where to find me- my office door is always open to you.”  
  
There’s a seriousness in her words that Felix isn’t used to. She nods as she leaves, shutting the door behind her. Felix lifts the soup, stirring it idly with the spoon Byleth left. He remembers that her father died in not entirely dissimilar circumstances, and for her, with her five-year nap, that was only a matter of months ago. Felix eats his meal, and feels the strength returning to his body.

His mind is another matter altogether.

* * *

The next person to knock on his door is an unwanted visitor. Felix knows he could cope with most people at this point, except perhaps Ingrid- her penchant for crying over his deceased family members is sure to set him off, and he’s cried enough for now, loathe as he is to admit that he cried at all.

He knows from the knock who it is, and instantly is filled with rage. He goes from lying down to standing in a matter of seconds, hands clenched into fists by his side. He swings the door open to see Dimitri there, one hand raised to knock again.

“How _dare_ you come near me after what you did?!” Felix yells, advancing on Dimitri with a quickness not even reserved for the battlefield.

“Felix, I’m here to-“  
  
“Absolutely not! You’re going to shut your ugly boar mouth and get out of my sight!” Always armed, Felix unsheathes his sword, forcing Dimitri backwards until the taller man’s back hits the brick wall and Felix’s blade presses against his throat.

“I mean you no harm, Felix. I just wanted to convey my sincerest condolences. I-“  
  
“Did I not tell you to shut up! This is all your fault because you’re some deranged beast that doesn’t know how to listen to other people!”

Presumably hearing the altercation from his own room, Sylvain sticks his head out of the doorway- only to see Felix standing on his tiptoes with his sword still firmly one flick of the wrist away from taking Dimitri’s head clean off. He knows better than to intervene, though- one glance in his direction from Felix has him rooted to the spot.

“Do it, then,” Dimitri murmurs. “Kill me. We all know I deserve it.” His eye stares into Felix’s, sincere and yet overpowering. The true power of a king. Felix drops his sword, turning his back on Dimitri.

“You deserve less than the clean cut of my blade.”

He slams the door to his room behind him as he goes, dropping the sword with a clatter beside his bed as he falls back on it for the umpteenth time in his self-imposed isolation. The door opens again after only a few seconds, but Felix isn’t worried, knowing that Dimitri is smart enough not to come in after having a sword shoved at his throat.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Sylvain exclaims, hovering over Felix, who promptly covers his face with a pillow.

“He deserved it. He’s the reason my father is dead, because he tortured Randolph von Bergliez all those months ago. He should’ve died, not my father.”  
  
“Do you… not blame Fleche? She’s the one that stabbed him, after all,” Sylvain says, trying to be the voice of reason as always.

“Obviously. She’s dead, though. The Professor took care of her, and I wish she’d take care of the boar the same way.”  
  
“He’s the king, Felix,” Sylvain sighs.

“Not yet.”  
  
“At the end of the month he will be. We’re marching on Fhirdiad- Dimitri decided. He’s… more with it than before. I don’t know what happened, but Mercedes said he and the Professor stood outside in the rain for a long time and talked.”

“Great, so we’ll have a maniac for a king.”  
  
“You’ll have a friend for a king. I know you hate him now, but you and his Highness used to be best friends, remember? That doesn’t have to change. I know it might take time, but…”  
  
“Thanks for your insight, Sylvain,” Felix mumbles into his pillow, still not ready to emerge from under the covers that protect him from the world.

“I’ll leave you to it, Felix. But if you want to spar, I’m not far away. I don’t know what it’s like to lose a parent, but… well, if I could swap your dad for mine, you know I would. In a heartbeat.”  
  
Felix peers at him over the top of the pillow, and decides that Sylvain is being deadly serious for once. He glares regardless, because he doesn’t ever know what else he should be doing with his face. Sylvain laughs, that hearty laugh that used to annoy Felix but now he can’t find it in himself to hate, and lets himself out the door.

* * *

After his confrontation with Dimitri, Felix would be happy to never hear from any of his friends ever again. That isn’t an option, however, when some of the members of the Blue Lions class are very overbearing and like to help out wherever they can, even if that help is neither requested nor required.

Like Mercedes, for example, who knocks on Felix’s door on a rainy Tuesday afternoon and lets herself in after he makes a noncommittal grunt as a way of answering. She carries a basket of muffins- savoury, she’s quick to point out- and leaves them on Felix’s desk. He thinks that’s it, but then she starts going around his room, picking up dirty clothes that he hasn’t bothered to pick up in weeks, folding them neatly and setting them in what looks like different piles.

“Mercedes, what on earth are you doing?”  
  
“I heard from Sylvain that your room was a mess, and gosh, he wasn’t exaggerating. I know things can be hard after losing a loved one, so I’m here to provide help. Have a muffin.”

She says everything so casually that Felix really isn’t sure if she’s being serious or not, ever. But she’s doing him a favour, and he is in absolutely no position to complain, given that he’s never been that nice to her. Felix understands that Mercedes looks after him because he reminds her of her brother, but he still doesn’t really understand _why_. He takes a muffin.

“Mercedes, did… did your brother die?”  
  
“I don’t think so. I haven’t heard about him in a while, though, so I can’t say for certain. I hope if he is still alive, he’s healthy, at least.”

Felix hums in response- he’s not sure what is worse- a dead older brother, or a missing younger brother.

“Do you like the muffins?” Mercedes asks, pulling a cleaning cloth from her belt and wiping down the desk, lifting the basket for a second before setting it right back down.

“They’re good.”  
  
“If you’d like, I can teach you how to make them sometime. They’re very easy for a beginner. Even Annette managed them without burning the whole kitchen down!”  
  
At the mention of Annette’s name, Felix realises that he hasn’t seen her in two weeks, thanks to his isolation. Which is odd, considering that Byleth has been in three times to visit him, Sylvain almost every day after the first time, and he’s nodded at Ingrid the few times he’s spotted her while out and about. Usually, Annette would be the first one here, but he feels a little strange knowing that she hasn’t stopped by.

“Yeah, the muffins. That’d be nice.”

“Wonderful! Next week then- I think this batch will do you a while.”

“Great.”

Mercedes sets her cleaning cloth down, and folds her arms across her stomach, leaning against his desk. There’s a look in her eyes something akin to pity, but Felix isn’t convinced that’s what it is.  
  
“Are you sure you’re doing alright, Felix?”  
  
“Almost.”  
  
“Good enough for me,” she laughs, and he lets half a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. “We haven’t buried your father yet. We were waiting for you to be ready. When you are, let someone know, okay? We can hold a small service, as many or as little of us as you want there.”  
  
“Dimitri can’t come,” Felix responds quickly, before his brain even can think whether or not that’s a good idea.

“Whatever you wish. See you soon for muffin making, then.”  
  
“Thanks, Mercedes.”

* * *

Felix begins to dread the knocks on his door. Aside from Dimitri’s impromptu visit, everyone else has been nothing but kind and understanding. This is especially strange, as Felix isn’t sure he even understands his own grief. He hated his father for most of his life, and barely had time to reconcile with him before he was torn from this life doing the one thing he was born to do.

Felix has no intentions of going the same way.

His father wasn’t terrible. That is the conclusion it has taken Felix almost ten years to come to, and it’s not really all that satisfying. He had some stupid ideas, but truthfully, they came from a place of care, and Felix cannot truthfully say that his father didn’t care for him. He can’t even say that he cared more for Glenn, for that wasn’t true either. Perhaps he cared more about his job and his duty, but his love for his sons was equal and important.

As Felix ponders this, munching on the last of the muffins that Mercedes left, another knock comes to the door. He can’t immediately tell who this is, so he sets the book he’s been trying to read for the past three days down and answers the door. There stands Dedue, looming tall over him, another tray of food in his hands.

“I am aware that you’re eating in the dining hall sometimes now, but I thought I’d make your favourite today.”

He’s right- there on the tray is a portion of super spicy fish dango. Felix doesn’t get to eat it often, as it isn’t to most people’s taste, so it comes as a treat on occasion. Dedue is a good chef though, and as Felix nibbles on the edge of one of the dango, just the right amount of heat hits the back of his throat. He lets himself smile, and turns to Dedue.

“You like these too, right? Have one.”  
  
“I have already eaten some, but thank you.”  
  
“They’re good,” Felix adds. He’s never been sure how to act around Dedue since he supposedly appeared back from the dead- he had never been kind to the man during their school days, or before that.

“I am glad you like them.”  
  
“Why did you go to all this effort for me? I know these are hard to make.”  
  
“They are not so difficult once you get used to them. However, I know that you are in a time of mourning, and I wished to do something kind for you. I am... familiar with the feeling.”

“Not once have I ever been kind to you, so this really wasn’t necessary. I don’t deserve your kindness.”  
  
“You were a child. And while that does not excuse your actions, it is clear to me that the Felix Fraldarius that stands before me now is not the Felix Fraldarius that called me His Highness’s dog. I am willing to let people grow and change, if they wish to. If not, that is their problem, not mine.”  
  
“You truly are the kindest person in this army. I hope you get to retire in peace, or whatever.” Felix stuffs another dango in his mouth whole to avoid speaking any more- this whole situation is embarrassing enough.

“I have no intentions of retiring just yet,” Dedue says with a chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiment though. I will continue to protect you in battle, as long as you do the same for me.”  
  
Felix nods, unable to respond. Dedue places a hand on Felix’s shoulder, everything else he wants to say clear from that one gesture. He leaves with a nod, closing the door gently behind him. Felix sighs, staring at the remaining dango. He supposes that Dedue probably deserves a proper apology- and he’s also not the only one that Felix should share some kinder words with for a change.

* * *

Ashe doesn’t get the chance to knock on Felix’s door- instead, he grabs him in the library when Felix is returning the book he’d been reading in exchange for another one. It took him a week to read that one, and he doesn’t expect that this one will be any easier. Still it was enjoyable, and it gives him something to talk about when Sylvain comes to visit to check up on him.

He’s not very subtle either. He doesn’t even bother to sneak up on Felix, just marching straight up to him and standing beside him, waiting for a response. When Felix eventually does turn around, having selected a book, Ashe is smiling, one of those I’m sorry smiles that Felix has gotten so used to over the past few weeks.

“Reading?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“That’s a good one- I read it back at the academy. I thought you hated stories though?”  
  
“I hate your chivalric tales of knights and all that crap,” Felix explains. “This one is about murder and is a lot more interesting.”

“Whatever suits you, I guess. How are things with you? I heard you made muffins with Mercedes- they were really good.”  
  
“Things are… as good as you could expect them to be.”

“I understand that.”

It is then that Felix realises that Ashe too has lost a father- and worse, he was cut down by Catherine in front of their eyes. Ashe technically runs the Gaspard household now, Felix is aware, but he doesn’t care to ask how that’s going or why he’s doing it in the first place.

“Yeah, well. Life goes on. We’re marching on Fhirdiad at the end of the week, so life will change again then. Nothing much any of us can do about it.”  
  
“Other than take Fhirdiad successfully, I think you’re right. The goddess rules in strange ways.”  
  
“If she even exists at all.”  
  
“Well… I suppose. We have no proof of her existence really, do we? Ah, but this isn’t the time to be discussing that.”  
  
“Guess not. I’m surprised I haven’t been struck down for blaspheming already. I’ve said a lot of unsavoury things about the goddess over the years,” Felix muses, thumbing the cover of his book.

“I doubt she cares about things like that. I would think that she’s more worried about… you know. Church stuff.”  
  
“You sound like an expert.”  
  
“It’s late,” Ashe excuses with a breathy laugh. “Listen, Felix, enjoy your book. You know where I am if you want… in depth literary analysis. Or coping mechanisms for when you see your father killed in front of you.”  
  
“That’s very… macabre. And also maybe helpful, some time in the future.”  
  
“Good night, Felix,” Ashe says, heading out of the library with a wave.

Felix sighs, looking around him. When was the last time this place was dusted? His allergies are really acting up.

* * *

Felix knows when the next knock comes to his door that it will be Ingrid. She had told him as much over dinner yesterday, talking about everything other than the obvious. At the end of the meal, she mumbles that they’ve finished the arrangements for Rodrigue’s funeral, and she’ll come by his room to collect him in the morning. He nods in understanding, and heads back to his room.

He doesn’t get much sleep- he knows his father is dead, and is more or less okay with the idea that he’ll never see the man again and what that means for his future. However, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not _really_ ready to say goodbye to the man that raised him more or less alone. He deserves a lot more than to be buried in the graveyard at Garreg Mach- ideally, he would have wanted to be buried alongside Lambert, but that’s hardly an option at the minute.

Dressed in the traditional Faerghus funeral blacks, Felix stares out the window, mumbling his consent for Ingrid to enter his room. He turns to see her in a long black dress that clearly doesn’t belong to her due to the fact that it doesn’t really fit anywhere. She plays with the lace on the edge of the sleeves, not wanting to look at him.

“Are you ready?” She asks, and the wobble in her voice betrays the fact that she’s about to cry.

“Are you?” He returns, and she looks at him, confusion etched clear on her features.

“What are you talking about?”  
  
“You look upset. Don’t rush to go down if you’re not ready.”  
  
“Since when have you been so caring?” She jokes, using her sleeve to wipe under her eyes.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Felix points out, and Ingrid’s eyes widen before she chokes out a laugh.

She leads him down the dormitory stairs and outside, where she pauses for a moment, causing Felix to almost bump into her. Ingrid mumbles an apology under her breath before moving on, towards the training grounds, past the main building to the graveyard by the side. A modest crowd has gathered- most of the Blue Lions, and a large proportion of the Knights of Seiros. Dimitri is notably missing, as well as Dedue. A headstone has already been erected, and Rodrigue’s coffin lies beside it, a hole dug for his final resting place.

“I’ll really miss him. I’ll miss visiting your family for special occasions and having Rodrigue tell terrible jokes that no one found funny. I’ll miss your mother forcing you to play piano for everyone when you were barely big enough to sit on the stool and Rodrigue having to take over when you started crying.”  
  
“We can still have special occasions at my house,” Felix says, and he means it, because the house is far too big for one person to celebrate alone in. “I’ll be a terrible host, but-“  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Ingrid assuages, setting a hand on Felix’s forearm. “We’ll all be there.”

Seteth performs the ceremony, with Byleth by his side to offer a few kind words about Rodrigue. She nods to Felix to come up and share too, but he shakes his head and remains staunchly rooted to the spot. The ceremony proceeds without incident, and Rodrigue is laid to rest. It’s almost anticlimactic- Felix had turned up ready for a fight with Dimitri, but he supposes the man has more sense, and will probably pay his respects later on.

Everyone offers kind words to Felix on their way back to their daily lives- Sylvain pulls him into a most unwelcome hug. As he turns his back on his father for the last time, he spots Annette hovering by the stairs, unsure whether or not she should leave. Determined, he marches right up to her, and looks down at her, hands clasped in front of her heart, staring right back up at him.

“I’m really sorry I haven’t come to see you,” she mumbles. “It’s really selfish of me.”  
  
“It’s okay. I wouldn’t expect anyone to come and see me. I think you have more sense than the others, leaving me alone.”  
  
“I helped Mercie make the muffins for you that time. She said you liked them.”  
  
“They were great.” Felix looks away, then looks back at her, sighing. “Walk with me?”  
  
She nods silently, and falls into step beside him. They’re not really walking anywhere in particular, but he leads them towards the marketplace, because he needs to see if the blacksmith can fix his father’s Sword of Moralta, and he may as well do it now.

“I don’t want to ask you how you are,” Annette states, very matter-of-factly. “I know what the answer is. But have you been eating enough? I know you haven’t been in the training grounds as much as usual.”  
  
“Have you all been talking about me behind my back?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Well, I appreciate the honesty. I’m doing fine, I promise. It took me a while to get used to things, but… well. It’s over now. He’s in the ground.”

“A cat I had as a child got ran over by a wagon visiting from another estate. I cried about it for a week, and even though my father made it a tiny gravestone and we buried it in the garden, I was still sad about it. Sometimes I still remember that cat and am a little sad. It bit me a lot and always shed its fur, but I still do miss it. If you find yourself missing your father in the coming weeks and months and years, just know that that’s normal, okay?”  
  
Annette stops in her tracks, and grabs one of Felix’s hands, holding it within both of her own. She looks up at him with that smile that he’s become so fond of (when did he become fond of it?). He realises that she’s waiting for an answer, so he nods, and finds himself smiling too- properly this time.

“Good. Now, let’s go to the marketplace. I heard they’ve got a new food stall! I’ll get you something- my treat!”  
  
“Are you going to buy me steak? Or maybe some cakes?”  
  
“Oh, you are a villain! I’m trying to do something nice for you!” She stomps her foot at him, which only serves to make him smile more.  
  
“I know. Let’s go before swamp beasties get us.”  
  
“I do hate you so, Felix Fraldarius.”  
  
Felix lets himself be dragged along by Annette, finding that his worries are at least a little smaller when he’s around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if any of this makes sense, but here it is anyway. Please look forward to the next chapter! Things really start to get good from then hehe :3


	20. Garland Moon, 1186

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I really do hate you so, Felix. You say all these things, all the time, and I can never make head nor tail of what you mean, what you want. Do you like me, or do you just like my songs?”
> 
> “Of course I like you. Why else would I spend time with you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much less angst and lots more netteflix from here on out :3

Derdriu is warm- warmer than Annette was expecting, at the very least. The city itself is gorgeous, once the Imperial Army have cleared out and they’re not trying not to die while they make their way through it. It bounces back quickly as well- the residents that hid in their houses during the battle, unable to escape, return to their lives not a day later. The marketplace is hiving with people, as if there was no war at all. Annette envies their attitude.

Claude allows them to stay in the Riegan residence overnight before they begin their journey back to Garreg Mach. The whole army squeezes into the house- taking over every single spare room, as well as the barracks. Annette relishes the luxury of a comfortable bed, even if she is shoved into a child’s room due to her short stature.

The Duke Riegan isn’t sticking around for long though, that much is clear. He told Dimitri and Byleth that the day before- this is his last day in Fódlan. Annette isn’t sure where he’s going, but she can’t reasonably believe that he intends to end up anywhere other than Almyra. When Annette makes her way down for breakfast in the morning, he’s the only other one awake.

“Good morning, Lady Dominic! To what do I owe the pleasure?” He greets, getting up from his chair, ever the hospitable host.

“I’m just here for breakfast,” she laughs, waving him away. “Anywhere I shouldn’t sit?”  
  
“It would be weird if you didn’t sit next to me. It’d look like you don’t like me.”

“I do like you,” she says in return, sitting beside him and mumbling what she wants to a servant who seems to appear out of thin air. This is a lot different to breakfast in her own house- usually that’s just a spread and she picks and chooses off the table. Those are the perks of being a Duke, she supposes.

“You should come visit me in Almyra some time. There’s a rich song writing tradition in a lot of the villages.”  
  
“Ugh, you! Between you and Felix, I’ll never hear the end of this!”  
  
“What about me?” Felix says, shuffling into the room, barely awake.

“Ugh,” Annette repeats, holding her head in her hands and staunchly refusing to look at either of the men that have decided to be her company for breakfast.

“What’s she talking about?” Felix asks again, this time directed at Claude. He takes a seat opposite Annette, giving his own order for food.

“I didn’t know you also knew about Annette’s little songs. They’re good, aren’t they?”  
  
“Yeah. They’re cute.”

“Just like Annette’s pigtails in the academy,” Claude agrees with a laugh that can really only be described as a cackle.

“I cannot wait until this war is over and I never have to speak to either of you ever again,” Annette mumbles into her palms. Claude leans over close to her, and whispers in her ear.

“I think you’ll have a hard time getting rid of that one after the war.”

As Claude leaves the room, humming one of Annette’s songs to himself, Annette lifts her head to look at Felix. He holds eye contact with her, looking at her with a sleepy expression that she otherwise can’t place. Did Claude mean what she thinks he meant? Or was Annette just projecting her own feelings onto the man?

Ingrid enters the room as she thinks this, and Felix’s gaze drops to the table. There’s nothing interesting to look at there, so Annette knows he’s just avoiding her stare. It’s strange, she knows, her relationship with Felix. She does like him- ever so much- but if he’s not interested in her, she’ll happily move on. She doesn’t want to spend her entire life hopelessly loving with a man who doesn’t care for her.

Felix and Ingrid strike up a conversation while breakfast comes out from the kitchens, and Annette is ever grateful for Ashe’s presence when he comes in. She picks at her breakfast, appetite all but disappeared after the stress Claude has caused her.

“Did you hear that we’re not leaving until tonight?” Ashe says excitedly. Annette isn’t sure what’s so exciting about that.

“Ugh, I hate night marches. How did you even hear about that anyway?”  
  
“The Professor is in the hallway with Dimitri and Claude. They’re going to discuss political something or other before we leave, so we have all day here in Derdriu!”

“Oh, seriously? I’ve always wanted to look around the city! Oh, I wonder where Mercie is, she’ll be so excited about this!”  
  
Annette leaves her breakfast half-finished on the table and dashes out of the room, keen to find Mercedes so they can plan a whole week of activities in Derdriu in just a matter of hours.

* * *

“We really should have gotten a map,” Mercedes says, worry evident in her tone.

“It’ll be fine!” Annette is quick to insist. “Not knowing where we’re going is half the fun!”

“That’s not the issue, Annie. I’m not sure how to get back from here!”

“Oh. Well, we’ll be fine! Oh, look Mercie, there’s a bakery!”  
  
“Let’s have lunch there, then,” Mercedes agrees.

It’s a quiet bakery, and Annette loves the atmosphere. Realising that they’re from the kingdom army, the baker tries to give them their meal for free, but Annette slides them a few coins at the end anyway, not happy to take a handout just because they ran the Empire out of the city the day before.

Sufficiently filled, Mercedes drags Annette out of the bakery and into the street. A little ways from where they are now, Annette can spot a fountain in the middle of a square, one that they definitely hadn’t passed earlier, despite Annette being certain that this was the way they came. Seated on the edge of the fountain are Sylvain and Felix, and once she spots them, Mercedes is quick to go over to greet them. Annette is not so keen.

“Hello ladies,” Sylvain says with a wave. “And a very good day to you. Enjoying Derdriu?”  
  
“Oh yes, it’s wonderful,” Mercedes answers.

“There’s an art gallery off an alley here that Felix won’t let me go to. I don’t suppose you’d consider joining me, Mercedes?”  
  
“Oh, of course! That would be lovely.”  
  
Sylvain stands and offers Mercedes his arm. She loops her own through it, and the two wander off before Annette has a chance to protest.

“Hey!” She calls after them. “What if I wanted to go?”  
  
“Apparently it’s got pictures of naked ladies, you wouldn’t like it,” Sylvain answers, and Mercedes gives her a little wave over her shoulder.

Annette turns to Felix, who looks bored out of his mind, and back to Sylvain and Mercedes, and wonders in the back of her mind if they planned this on purpose. Felix still look entirely uninterested, but now he looks at her again. Her brain must be playing tricks on her now, the traitorous thing, because she swears that Felix is blushing. It’s just the heat- it’s warm in Derdriu.

“I suppose that leaves us then,” she says simply, to which Felix nods.

“I don’t think they’re actually going to an art gallery,” he says, and after a moment, Annette realises what he means and gasps, though she can’t stop herself from grinning either.

“If he treats her badly, I’ll kill him.”  
  
“I don’t doubt that. I’d be glad to watch that showdown.” He hauls himself up from the fountain’s edge, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Anywhere you want to go?”  
  
“As long as you know the way back to House Riegan, I don’t mind. I wasn’t paying much attention as we left.”  
  
“You like sweets, right? There’s a sweet shop over there. Sylvain already brought me, but…”  
  
“Sounds nice. Are there any sweets you like?” Annette asks, letting Felix lead the way across the square.

“No. Well… I don’t know. I’d need to try every sweet in the world to make a decision on that.” Though it sounds like a joke, Felix is entirely serious, and Annette has to stifle a giggle.

“I’ll pick you out something from in here. You wait outside!”  
  
He hums in approval, and folds his arms across his chest as he leans against the wall. He looks so out of place in a city like this, full of vibrant people with big smiles on their faces. Felix is as grumpy as ever, and truth be told, Annette can’t see that changing any time soon. She selects sweets for herself, as well as two macarons for him, and smiles when the shopkeeper gives her a tiny basket to carry them in.

When she gets outside, the first thing she notices is that Felix has shed his jacket and tunic and shirt with puffy sleeves, leaving him in just his trousers and sleeveless black turtleneck. Annette can hardly blame him- the heat has become stifling since noon with no sign of it getting any cooler any time soon. But it’s very distracting, and she has to concentrate to stop staring at his arms- he’s really not making this finding him attractive thing easier for her.

“What?” He asks as soon as she comes near him.

“Nothing,” she dismisses, holding out the basket to him. “I picked some for you too- try them!”  
  
“I probably won’t like them,” he warns, but he lifts one and takes a bite anyway. His face of concentration is something to behold, and Annette finds herself almost excited to find out what he thinks. After screwing his nose up a few times, he sighs. “It’s not terrible.”  
  
“I consider that a victory,” she cheers. “Where to now?”  
  
“I don’t really want to go anywhere. Let’s just walk around.”  
  
“Alright.”

They fall into step easily, and though there’s not really anything planned out, the afternoon is enjoyable spent with him. He’s not very sociable, and Annette understands that, but they do manage to have pleasant conversations while walking around the city. At times, Annette wants to reach out and take his hand, but she’s well aware that won’t end well for her. Regardless, he seems to be walking quite close to her, and she catches him smiling on more than one instance.

Before they leave Derdriu, Felix helps her onto her horse, which she is perfectly capable of doing on her own, but she doesn’t mind the attention from him, not when she’s been actively flirting with him all afternoon. He disappears then, and Mercie appears in his stead. The two swap stories of their afternoons as night draws in and they leave the city, making their way back to Garreg Mach. Annette tries not to be too annoyed that Mercedes abandoned her with Felix like that- it was a dirty trick, but she can’t complain about the outcome.

* * *

When they eventually return to the monastery a few days later, all Annette wants to do is lie in her bed and sleep for as long as possible. Lying on forest floors is not at all comfortable, and probably terrible for her back. She’ll be glad when this war is over, and she can go back home and sleep on a real bed all the time- it’s a luxury she didn’t think she would miss at all.

The bathhouse seems to be full of people, but Annette manages to squeeze her way in anyway, scrubbing days of forest dirt and sweat from her body. She washes her hair with fancy soaps that Mercedes picked up in the capital, and relishes the fact that she now smells like tangerines that she’s never seen this far west. Oranges must only grow in the Alliance, which is such a shame, Annette laments.

She’s almost ready for bed, her hair braided to keep it tidy overnight, when a note slips under her door. This is not the first time this has happened, and her heart skips a beat when she sees it’s from the same person as before- Felix. Though to be fair to everyone else in the monastery, he’s the only one that wouldn’t just knock on the door if he wanted to speak with her.

_Come to the greenhouse when you can._

_F.F._

Short and succinct, as to be expected. She quickly takes her nightgown off and replaces it with a day dress, because there’s nothing worse she can imagine than meeting Felix in her pyjamas. She rushes to the greenhouse, not wanting to be rude and keep him waiting.

Like before, he sits on the edge of the planting boxes. Unlike last time, she sits beside him, rather than opposite. It takes her a moment to notice, but tonight he wears his hair down, and has a loose white shirt on instead of that cursed turtleneck. His hair is nice out of that ponytail, and Annette would very much like to run her fingers through it.

But she doesn’t, because she’s sensible and does have some self-control (though that seems to be rapidly disappearing when she’s around him). Annette folds her hands politely on her lap instead. Felix doesn’t seem too keen on conversation, despite having asked her here, so she lets him stew on his thoughts for a moment, content just to spend time in the same space as him. She’s unable to sit still though, so she picks up a watering can and gives some of the drier looking plants a drink.

When Felix does eventually begin to talk, the two find themselves with flushed faces, unable to look at each other. Her captive, he insists, not a phrase that she ever thought anyone would use to describe her. Although he’s always been insistent that he enjoys her songs, she mostly just thought he was teasing, and it isn’t until now that she believes him.

And that is how Annette finds herself in the greenhouse with the Kingdom’s angriest swordsman. His head rests on her lap as she sings quietly, fumbling over some of the words of her made up songs. Her fingers make their way into his hair, brushing out each strand with care. He seems thoroughly exhausted, both emotionally and physically, and Annette really wouldn’t be surprised if he fell asleep here, head on her knees.

But she knows he isn’t, because she can hear him singing too. Quietly, under his breath, more akin to a hum really. But some of the words and lines are clearer, lyrics to the songs that have supposedly been stuck in his head for years. The mere thought of it makes Annette want the floor of the greenhouse to open up and swallow her whole, lest anyone find out that not only does she write silly songs, but someone enjoys them enough to remember them for so long.

Eventually, she makes it to the end of her repertoire, and she finishes brushing Felix’s hair, and he sits up. His face is still a little pink, but Annette thinks it’s a good look on him, especially the soft smile that tugs at his lips. Though this isn’t exactly the romantic declaration of love she wanted from Felix, it’s likely as good as she’s going to get, and that’s okay with her, for now at least. But then he looks away from her, absently into the distance, and shuffles around in his seat, pulling his hair back into a ponytail once more.

“I really do hate you so, Felix,” she says, and he has the good grace to look startled at her outburst. “You say all these things, all the time, and I can never make head nor tail of what you mean, what you want. Do you like me, or do you just like my songs?”  
  
“Of course I like you. Why else would I spend time with you?” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but Annette knows that he doesn’t really understand what she’s getting at.

“You really do annoy me, you villain. You don’t get it, do you? You, and your soft voice, and your pretty eyes, and your gorgeous hair…”  
  
Annette sighs, and when she looks up at Felix, there’s something almost hopeful in his eyes. Throwing away that last bit of self-control she’s been holding onto, Annette closes her eyes and reaches up to Felix’s face to pulls him down into a kiss. He’s always been an actions over words sort of person, but Annette worries that perhaps this was an action too far, as he doesn’t seem to respond one way or another.

But then he _does_ , covering one of her hands with his own, and reaching for her waist with the other. He kisses back, though they’re both a little clumsy and inexperienced, noses bumping into each other and teeth clacking uncomfortably. But Annette is over the moon, shifting herself closer to him and relishing in how his arm snakes around her back to pull her towards his chest.

Behind them, Annette vaguely registers a noise, but puts it down to one of the monastery’s many cats. She’d much rather focus on how Felix is still insistently kissing her, breaking off every now and then to reposition his head, to look at her. Annette has no idea how long they’ve been there, but it’s not long enough- if she could, she’d stay like this forever, just her and Felix and… the clack of shoes behind them, and then-

“Annie, I know it’s late but the professor was looking for- oh!”  
  
Mercedes stops in her tracks, and Annette leaps away from Felix, on her feet in a matter of seconds. Felix looks just as shocked as she feels, his hands still hovering in mid-air. Mercedes looks from Annette to Felix and back again, before smiling, and nodding to Annette. She leaves the greenhouse quickly, but Annette knows her better than to hope that she’s left entirely.

“I have to go,” she whispers, and Felix only stares at her, a hand coming up to touch his lips, where Annette’s were making their mark seconds earlier. “Goodnight.”

“I don’t understand you,” he says, and her heart breaks into a million pieces. That wasn’t her intended impression, but then again, she didn’t say anything about… actually being in love with him. In fact, she said the exact opposite, and contradicted her words with her following actions.

“I’m sorry.”  
  
Annette turns sharply on her heel and leaves the greenhouse, the object of her affections, and her dignity behind her, trying to forget how Felix’s lips felt pressed against her own, and Felix’s hand on her waist, and Felix’s smell, and the feel of Felix’s hair, and Felix’s blushing face, and she realises with a start that she’s just as much his captive as much as he is hers.


	21. Blue Sea Moon, 1186

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He feels a sharp pain from his shoulder right through his chest, and instinctively puts his hand up to feel. It’s warm and wet, and he can feel his vision waning already. Distantly, he can hear Mercedes calling his name- he turns to his left and she’s there, her warming light already penetrating the wound and fixing him from the inside out. A wound like this takes time to heal though, he’s well aware. And they do not have time on their side.

Felix has never really felt terrified of battle in his life. It’s not in his nature- in fact, it’s quite the opposite. He actively enjoys battle, relishes in the feeling of cutting down his enemies. In a way, that makes him quite sadistic, but he’s well aware that at this point in his life, it’s either fight or die. When it comes down to survival or a horrible bloody death, he’ll take the former any day of the week, and abandon any sense of morality he might have on the event.

Today, however, for the first time perhaps since he first picked up a sword, Felix does feel fear. There’s something about the looming heights of Fort Merceus that make him feel useless. The walls here are surely metres thick, and Felix doesn’t like the idea of breaking down the door. The Imperial army have got to know that they’re here, standing crowed outside the door, and he’s worried that there has been no fighting thus far for a reason.

Two armoured knights hold the battering ram that is to break down the door. At first, it only dents the wood, but then it splinters, and the rest of the door disappears alongside it. There are no soldiers on the other side, not immediately visible anyway, and so they progress slowly, armoured units first, followed by snipers, bows pointed upwards to fend off an aerial attack.

It is only then that the battle begins in full, the cries of battle ringing in Felix’s ears as he surges forward, sword in one hand, Aegis shield in the other. There’s no real plan for this battle, and he expects it to be messy. There were no maps of the fort for the Professor to use while she was making the strategy, so everything they were told was vague and of little relevance to actual battle. It will be an all-out fight, every soldier for themselves, and Felix isn’t sure if that’s better or worse than having a detailed plan.

Plans aren’t always helpful, that much is certain. Everything rides on the enemy doing exactly what is expected of them with a plan, and thus far in the war, they’ve been nothing short of surprises. Every plan that Byleth has painstakingly made, spent hours bent over maps and textbooks in the cardinal’s room, hasn’t been one hundred percent successful. But having no plan… maybe that just means she trusts them enough at this point to do what they’re best at.

One thing is clear though- this will not be an easy battle. For one, the enemy general is the Death Knight, on the back of his abnormally tall horse, with his massive helmet with horns that are supposed to be intimidating, but Felix just thinks they’re rather stupid at this point. He must have a voice changing spell on too- there’s no way that any real human man sounds like that.

Felix wants nothing more than to fight him, sword against sword, especially with the knowledge that Mercedes provided that he is most likely her brother, Jeritza, the old weapons instructor from the academy. Felix never managed to best Jeritza in the months that he was taught by the man, but he is absolutely certain that he could do it now. However, the Death Knight wields a scythe now, presumably to add to the visual that he’s going to reap the souls of his enemies.

Felix thinks it’s all rather stupid, really.

He fights his way through a large number of enemies, keeping close to the walls as he moves around. The Death Knight is on the move, and Felix tracks his movements. A few people follow a few meters behind him, but he’s too focussed on his task to really care to find out who his adjutants are. Taking out the Death Knight is his number one priority for this battle, even if he’s given other orders at some point in the middle.

They’ve never been able to defeat the man before. In the Holy Mausoleum, they carefully avoided him. In the Underground Chamber, Lysithea was the one to defeat him with Dark Spikes, borrowed for the month from the Golden Deer class for the sole reason of that spell. At Remire Village, he had teleported away before they had managed to finish him off. Apparently he was at the Battle for Garreg Mach too, but Felix has no idea what happened at that battle at all.

But he’s here now, and Felix is filled with determination, half his concentration on tracking the Death Knight’s movements as he tries to escape, the other half on the enemies in front of him. They’re easy work for his combination of weapons, swapping quickly between bows and swords and magic when the situation calls for it. Magic flies out from behind him too, but still Felix does not relent in his pursuit.

Eventually, the Death Knight finds himself cornered- evidently, the plans for Fort Merceus had not been passed on to their General, either. He dismounts his horse, and even with the loss of all that height, Jeritza is still intimidating, standing well over six feet tall. Mercedes skids to a halt beside Felix, offering him a quick healing spell.

“I’m here for back up,” she says quietly. “I cannot let you fight him alone.”  
  
“You want to see your brother die?” Felix says through gritted teeth.

“He is my brother no longer. As much as I loved dear Emile… Jeritza from the monastery, and the Death Knight, are not the little brother that I cared so much for. Emile died a long time ago. As far as I am concerned, this man is a murderer, and a kidnapper, and goddess knows what else, and he shall see divine punishment from the goddess herself just like all other sinners.”

“You would have made a good asset to the Imperial Army,” comes the changed voice of the Death Knight. “They need more healers. The emperor would have looked after you well.”  
  
“The emperor is trying to dismantle the church!” Mercedes almost yells, her voice cracking. “The church is the one thing that has given me any sort of positive structure in my life, and I would be a fool to turn against it now!” It’s the most upset Felix has ever seen her, and he really wishes he could do more to comfort her. Perhaps when this is all over, he’ll make her those muffins.

“The church created the crest system that has caused you so much pain. Has caused _us_ so much pain!”  
  
“I have a crest, and there is nothing that I can do about it! It is not the church that made my stepfather want me as the mother to his future children, it is a perverted old man that you killed for that very reason! Please, spare me your excuses. No one is perfect, and I do not expect the church to be either, but there is good in it!”

“Very well. Let us duel, then, Mercedes von Martritz!”  
  
It is not Mercedes that moves however, but Felix, dashing forward in the vain hopes of finding a chink in the Death Knight’s armour. He is fast too, however, and Felix can only dream of landing a hit as he dodges the scythe’s huge range. Even in this enclosed space, the Death Knight has a huge advantage somehow, and even as Felix casts the strongest Thoron spell he can muster, he can feel the scythe repelling his own magic back to him.

The Death Knight advances, looming tall over Felix as Mercedes quickly slides out of the way to avoid getting hit herself. She almost trips of her own skirts, hiking them up with one hand and casting Ragnarök at her brother, more in the hopes of slowing him down than anything else. It’s working, however- he’s moving slower, he’s gotten clumsier.

But in their dance, it is now Felix that is backed up into the corner, the Death Knight in front of him and cold stone wall behind him. The horse has long since scarpered, and Felix really wishes that the horse had taken him with it. But now, even with his last breaths rapidly approaching under Mercedes’s constant barrage of Fire spells and his futile Thunder spells and odd jabs with the sword, the Death Knight approaches, ready to take Felix from the world.

He feels a sharp pain from his shoulder right through his chest, and instinctively puts his hand up to feel. It’s warm and wet, and he can feel his vision waning already. Distantly, he can hear Mercedes calling his name- he turns to his left and she’s there, her warming light already penetrating the wound and fixing him from the inside out. A wound like this takes time to heal though, he’s well aware. And they do not have time on their side.

Felix brings his uninjured arm up to block yet another blow from the Death Knight’s accursed scythe. This was a mistake, because he has no strength left in his body to block such a blow, and all he can feel is pulsing pain in his other shoulder. As he feels that this is it- the end for him and Mercedes, or at the very least just for him, green light starts to shine from behind the Death Knight- and it’s more than one sort of spell.

Felix’s shoulder miraculously begins to heal at double speed, at the same time that the Death Knight crumples to the ground. It all seems to happen in slow motion, and with all the blood loss, Felix really isn’t sure what’s actually happening. But the Death Knight is dead, or at least out of commission, and Felix slides down the wall, Mercedes still at his side, hands now fully grabbing his shoulder as if she’s trying to force the wound back together.

He looks up to find the source of the green light. There stands Flayn- the reason his shoulder started healing quicker. Now that the healing is already well on its way to completion, she nods and scampers off- surely her skills are needed elsewhere. The wind spell came from none other than Annette.

Felix looks up at her, silhouetted by the bright sun behind her, and for the first time in a long time, is absolutely certain of his feelings. He curses himself now for being so blind- he was right all those years ago when they were at the monastery, when she was the one to help him through his magic training and she hugged him, and he thought he might be in love with her.

He should have realised when she kissed him, when he wrote all those letters to her, when he helped her back to the monastery when she nearly collapsed, when he scared her in the library, when Sylvain insisted he ask her out, when she healed his injured ankle unprompted, when he offered her his cape when she was crying at Gronder Field, when she bought him lunch after his father’s funeral, when they spent the afternoon together in Derdriu, when they made out in the greenhouse.

He is hopelessly in love with Annette.

“Felix, please stay still!” Mercedes pleads as Felix tries to get to his feet. He has no strength left, really, but he knows that somehow, he’s not going to die here. “I have no idea how your bleeding is speeding up; I’m doing everything right!”  
  
“Sorry,” he mumbles, taking deep breaths in order to help Mercedes out.

Annette falls to her knees by his side, taking his free hand in her own. She doesn’t say a word, but her presence is more than enough to make him feel better. With their general dead, Felix doesn’t find himself needing to worry about the battle. He would happily die here in the corner of Fort Merceus knowing that he did his job if it weren’t for the fact that he can’t muster up enough energy to tell Annette that he loves her.

And he does, really, and he’s quite happy to have realised that. He loves her smile, and her songs, and the funny way she scrunches up her nose when she’s busy calling him a villain. He wonders faintly if he should consider buying her a ring, if she’d want to live in Fraldarius with him, if she would want to have children. He’s delirious, he knows, from the lack of blood, but seeing her concerned face as Mercedes heals him is healing for the spirit.

Felix doesn’t make it to the end of the battle conscious, but he’s okay with that.

* * *

When he wakes up in the infirmary back at Garreg Mach, it must be a few days later. He doesn’t remember much, having only regained consciousness intermittently throughout the last few days. He remembers Mercedes and Manuela fussing over him, and flashes of blonde that could’ve been either Ingrid or Dimitri, though his bets are on the former.

It is the wrong redhead who sits by his bedside, however, when he manages to roll onto his uninjured side and look to his right. Sylvain watches him intently, focus away from the book in his lap.

“You okay there?”  
  
“Uncomfortable,” Felix manages to say. He flips back onto his back, and Sylvain gets up to plump his pillows up, allowing his friend to sit upright. “Hungry.”  
  
“Once Manuela hears you moving around, she’ll definitely be in here with something, I wouldn’t worry.”  
  
“How long was I out?” Felix asks, testing out the movement in his left arm. It seems to be moving correctly, but he won’t know until he gets back in the training grounds, and who knows when Manuela will deem him healthy enough to leave.

“Three days. We only just got back to the monastery a few hours ago. You were in the medical wagon before that. Not very glamourous, but you were unconscious, so you didn’t notice.”  
  
“And did we win?”  
  
“Duh. Annette killed the Death Knight.”

Ah, he had almost forgotten about the revelation he’d had after that moment. Who would’ve thought that it would’ve taken Annette felling their strongest enemy so far for him to realise that he’s been in love with her since their academy days?

“Has she been by?”  
  
“Like I said, we’re only just back. She’s probably resting. Why, did you have something to tell her?” Sylvain teases, but Felix’s face remains deadly serious.

“Yes,” he responds simply, causing Sylvain to raise an eyebrow.

“Wait, seriously? You _finally_ realised you like her?”  
  
“I think I’m in love with her, Sylvain,” Felix says, out loud, for the first time. He lets his head fall back onto his pile of pillows, staring up at the peeling ceiling of the infirmary.

“You know, I am so glad to hear that. You deserve a girl like her. You complement each other so well.” Sylvain can barely contain his grin, practically bouncing in his seat.

“Don’t go getting all excited. I don’t know if I should even say anything to her- I don’t…”  
  
“She definitely likes you back, don’t worry,” Sylvain reassures, but Felix shakes his head.

“That’s not the issue. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know where to tell her… should I even bother when we’re probably going to die in Enbarr when we eventually get there?”

“It’s up to you, Felix. But if you’re going to die in Enbarr, do you want to die with regrets?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Felix says again, turning his head to look at Sylvain. “I’ve never been in love before.”

“Follow your heart.”  
  
“You give shit advice, Sylvain.”

“Wrong! I told you to talk to your dad, and… well, you were getting along so well. The Felix from the start of the year would probably have celebrated his death, but you didn’t, you mourned. The Felix from the start of the year wouldn’t have realised he was in love, either. You’ve grown, and that’s due to me.”  
  
“I doubt that,” Felix snorts.

“It’s true!”  
  
“Who is Felix in love with?” Mercedes asks, gliding into the room with a tray of food that she manages to balance in Felix’s lap.

“You will _never_ guess who, Mercie,” Sylvain says, and Felix doesn’t miss his use of her nickname.

“Oh, is it Annie? Please let it be Annie, you two would be wonderful together!” She perches on the end of his bed, eager to get all the gossip out of him.

“Wouldn’t they?” Sylvain agrees, and Felix sighs, because one of them is bad enough, but having two of them ganging up on him makes his life that bit more difficult.

“Yes,” Felix relents, picking up a rather bland looking boiled potato with his fork so he doesn’t have to answer any more questions.

“Oh, you have simply made my day, Felix! You had better treat her right.”

“I… we’re not dating, Mercedes.”

“Not yet,” Sylvain supplies.

“They’ll probably end up married. Oh, can you imagine little Felix and Annette children!” Mercedes coos.

“They’d have a lot of space to run around in the gardens of House Fraldarius,” Sylvain says sagely, as if he’s already prepared a list of baby names for them.

Felix ignores both of them as they continue to plan Felix’s entire future, for once not too annoyed at the thought of the life that he could have in a sensible committed relationship with a noble woman, just as had been planned for everyone else he knows. He was the only one out of his friends to never be engaged or in an arranged partnership, or in a courtship with a minor noble that they had never met. And maybe that was for the best, because none of them would’ve been Annette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Mercedes loves Emile so much but I just wanted to see her snap okay I thought it would be very sexy of her to do that


	22. Verdant Rain Moon, 1186

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without another word, he takes Annette’s hand and marches her away in the direction of the marketplace, giving Sylvain the finger on the way.

Annette has no idea how long the battle in Enbarr’s Imperial Palace lasts, only that she’s absolutely certain that she has no intentions of ever swinging Crusher around ever again. Every single muscle in her upper body hurts like hell, and her legs can barely carry herself forward as she struggles up the stairs towards the throne room.

Putting one foot in front of the other has never really been a struggle before this. She half considers leaving Crusher at the bottom of the stairs, but the logical part of her brain knows that her uncle would definitely kill her if Edelgard didn’t see to it first. So she perseveres, fully intending to drop the accursed weight as soon as she sets her sights on the other Blue Lions.

The stairs to the corridor that leads to the throne room feel impossibly long, but as Annette scales them, she spots a familiar head of indigo hair pacing at the top of the stairs. The head turns, noticing her movements, and Annette finds the energy to finish climbing the stairs, dropping Crusher at the top at practically throwing herself at Felix, her head landing on his shoulder.

She doesn’t feel the need to cry, for once, despite the horrors that she’s witnessed here. She wants to sit down, first and foremost, and regain some of the feeling in the rest of her body. She would like Marianne to heal her aching muscles before the ten-day journey back to Garreg Mach, and she would love a good night’s sleep. Felix gently puts his arms around her, one hand absently rubbing up and down her spine. It’s a nice feeling, but it’s nothing compared to the healing that she really needs.

“Are you okay?”  
  
“I’m fine. I just need to sit down, like, right now.”  
  
“Alright.”

Felix lets go of her, and she makes her way over to where the rest of the Blue Lions sit, gathered in small groups, exhausted. Byleth and Dimitri are notably absent, presumably finishing what they came here to do. Annette collapses on the ground beside Mercedes, and looking around her, realises that she was in fact the last one to make it this far. Gingerly, Felix sits beside her, and she manages to will up enough energy to smile at him.

They’ve been spending a lot more time together recently, something that Annette appreciates, even if it’s difficult to tell him that out loud. But when they’re just sharing the other’s company, watering the plants or cleaning out the stables or when she watches him do weapon repairs or when he comes to her looking for a song, Annette feels like this is the right place for them. It’s hard to imagine that there really is a ‘them’ at this point- but they’ve made it through the war, and maybe now they can really have a conversation about what they want.

Annette is very certain that she wants Felix, and whatever being with him will bring. Now that there will be peace in Fódlan, something that seemed so far away just a month ago, having that discussion really doesn’t seem so scary. Especially not when Felix holds her hand, out of sight from everyone else, and squeezes gently. She turns her head to him, giving him half a nod of understanding. He’s not good with words, but she wouldn’t have him any other way.

She shifts a little closer to him, and smiles to herself when he does the same. She can rest her head on his shoulder this way, ease some of the tension that runs through her body after a long day of fighting. And she’s fooling herself if she thinks it’s a day- it’s been months of this now. Felix leans his head against her own, and for once, she doesn’t really care if anyone else finds out about their sort of relationship with no label. She’s too tired to care any longer.

The doors to the throne room creak open, and Sylvain is on his feet in an instant. Dimitri and Byleth emerge, and even without asking, it’s clear that the deed has been done- Edelgard is dead. Neither of them look anything approaching happy, however, and Annette feels regret pinching at her heart, despite having very little to do with anything that has happened in the last few days.

Marianne is quick to react too, noticing the blood dripping from Dimitri’s shoulder. She is by his side in an instant, green light glowing from her hands. Byleth breaks away from the group, called over by Flayn. Byleth almost collapses into the younger girl’s arms, exhaustion clear on their faces.

Felix sighs, and Annette twists her head to look at him- this close, he looks as tired as everyone else, though he’ll never admit it verbally like everyone else. Annette squeezes his hand gently, and his amber eyes flash in her direction, filled with understanding.

“Are you okay?” She mumbles, repeating his question from earlier back to him.

“I was really worried about you,” he admits quietly. “When you weren’t up here right away. It sounds stupid, because I know you’re strong enough to fend off a million Imperial soldiers, but…”

“If it had been the other way around, I would have been worried too, Felix. I _do_ worry about you in battle a lot. If I can’t see you, goddess knows where you are, what you’re doing.”

“I’ll try not to worry you ever again. I promise.”

There’s a finality to his words, an unspoken implication, that Annette finds herself quite enjoying. She meets his eyes to see if he understands, and all she can see is her own feelings reflected back to her.

* * *

Her room looks strange all packed up. All of Annette’s belongings pack up neatly into one trunk and one travelling bag, ready to head to Dominic for a while. She won’t be there long, however- she and her mother have plans to reopen the School of Sorcery. Fhirdiad calls her name, and she’s determined to make the best shot at it. As much as she’d love to be a teacher there, her brain holds out hope that perhaps her move to Fhirdiad will be a temporary one.

Her father did, as promised, write to her mother, and although there has only been brief and polite correspondence between the two of them, Annette is glad to see the glimmer of a smile return to her father’s face once again. She’s still not happy with him, not at all, but perhaps in the future, if he and her mother do properly reconcile, she’ll be able to forgive him too.

It’s a bit weird to be wearing the dress she came to Garreg Mach in for the Millennium Festival, but it’s the comfiest thing she owns, and the one that she’s most willing to get dirty on the road to Dominic. As she closes the lid to her trunk with a sigh of finality, a knock comes to her door. When she opens up, she reveals Ingrid and Sylvain, both with bags slung over their shoulders.

“We’re leaving in a few hours,” Ingrid explains. “And we wanted to say goodbye. I’ll really miss you, Annette.” Ingrid steps forward and pulls Annette into a very uncharacteristic hug, but she can’t say that it’s not very appreciated.

“Don’t say that like you’ll never see me again! We can write all the time, and I definitely want to make time to visit everyone as often as I can.”  
  
“Well, you have an invitation to House Gautier in exactly one year from now, to the day, for my wedding,” Sylvain says.

“Oh! You and Mercie are getting married?” Annette says, practically bouncing on her toes in excitement.

“Sure are. We would be quicker, but there’s a lot to sort out in Fódlan between now and then,” Sylvain explains, to which Ingrid rolls her eyes.

“I’d give them two months before they elope. But don’t wait until then to visit- we can arrange that any time!”  
  
“Seriously, Annette. I’m sure I’ll end up in Fhirdiad a lot, so we’ll have to catch up then,” Sylvain says, and Annette finds herself nodding enthusiastically.

“Of course! Oh, I’ll miss you two so much,” Annette sobs, throwing herself towards her two friends to pull them down into a hug of her own. It’s a little awkward, but eventually they pull away, laughing.

“Felix is coming with us too,” Ingrid explains. “We all came here together, and we wanted to leave together too. I think he was looking for you earlier, though.” There’s a glint in her eye that Annette doesn’t really like, but she ignores it, because she didn’t know that Felix was leaving today- he never felt the need to mention it.

“Where was he?” She asks, trying her best to remain casual.

“I think by the greenhouse,” Sylvain supplies. “But we have more goodbyes to deliver, so we’ll see you later!”

Annette waits for them to leave, watching as they head up towards the end of the row of dormitories. She fixes her hair, and makes sure her dress is full of wrinkles, before heading towards the greenhouse, where she can see Felix waiting for her. He looks particularly engrossed in one of the shrubs outside, and she feels that she needs to wave to get his attention.

“I heard you were leaving,” she comments idly, taking a step closer to him. They’re not too far apart- a respectable few steps, just in case this conversation goes in a way that Annette doesn’t see coming. Maybe she’s getting ahead of herself, but she can barely stop bouncing on her toes.

“Yeah,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck. Just like her, he’s dressed in his usual teal and fur combination, though how he’s not sweating in the late summer sun she has no idea. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I didn’t know… what to say.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad we get to say goodbye. I’ll… I’ll probably miss you the most. Mercie is coming to Fhirdiad too, and Fraldarius is a while away, so…”  
  
“This is the last we’ll see of each other for a while.”  
  
“Write to me?” Annette asks, hopeful that he’ll be able to honour that request.

“You have to write back this time,” he teases, and she can’t help but roll her eyes, a grin appearing on her face.

“You _know_ that wasn’t my fault!”  
  
“I know. But of course I’ll write. Just let me know where to send them to. You know where I’ll be.”  
  
“I’m at home for a month, and then off to Fhirdiad until the School of Sorcery opens,” Annette says, wringing her hands together.

“I know you’ll be a great teacher.” Felix is avoiding her gaze now, and suddenly, she feels nerves creep into her stomach. “You taught me well enough.”  
  
“Your Thoron spells killed many an enemy,” Annette agrees. “But thank you. I hope I can do a good job for the children. I don’t plan to stay there forever like my mother hopes to, but… it’ll be fun nonetheless. Oh, but you should be going, shouldn’t you? You don’t need to hear about my plans for Fhirdiad.”  
  
“We’re not leaving for another few hours,” Felix assuages. “I want to hear about what you’re planning on doing.”

“It’s really not that interesting.”

“It is to me.”

“Felix…”

“Listen, I… I do like you. I know that conversation was a while ago, but it’s been stuck in my head ever since. Do I like you, or your songs? Both. Wholeheartedly. I like you, and I like your songs. Ugh, this is… Annette.” Felix lifts his gaze to her, and she feels her face flush red. “I think I’m in love with you.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You heard me! Don’t make me repeat myself. This is… embarrassing enough as it is.”  
  
“I love you too,” Annette whispers, for his ears only, and a smile creeps onto her face as he blushes.

“Are you serious?”  
  
“Of course! Why would I lie about something like this? I love you!”

Felix and Annette will argue about what happens next for the rest of their lives. Felix will always say that he was the one to kiss Annette first, while Annette argues that she was the one to kiss him every other time they had kissed prior to this kiss, so obviously it was her this time as well.

Regardless, the two step forwards at the same time, hands reaching for the other’s face, pulling each other down like two magnets, inexplicably drawn to each other. Annette shuts her eyes tight as her lips meet Felix’s, and she can’t stop herself from smiling. Unlike the last time in the greenhouse, Felix is a lot more responsive, and she finds herself going almost weak in the knees as one of his hands makes its way into her hair, his tongue flicking across her lips.

Behind them comes a wolf whistle that could have come from no one other than Sylvain. Felix breaks away, dropping his hands to Annette’s shoulders so he can lean around her to glare at Sylvain. She turns to look- presumably he and Ingrid walked the long way around and came back through the dining hall as there they both stand, looking particularly smug.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Felix mumbles. “So we can, um… talk about stuff more.”  
  
“My room is just over there,” Annette suggests.

“No, that’s worse. Let’s just walk until we’re far away from those two,” Felix says, and without another word, he takes Annette’s hand and marches her away in the direction of the marketplace, giving Sylvain the finger on the way.

“Take off your gloves,” Annette whispers, letting go of his hand for a moment once they’re out of view from Sylvain and Ingrid.   
  
“Why?”  
  
“I want to hold your hand properly,” she says simply, removing her own long gloves and watching as he wiggles his hands out of own fur lined gloves, tucking them into his belt. She takes his hand again, and finds herself enjoying the bewildered look on Felix’s face.

“Your hands are soft,” he comments, swinging their arms as they walk.

“Benefits of being a mage. I don’t really get weapon callouses.”

“You probably think my hands are really gross then,” Felix grumbles, to which Annette can only laugh.

“Not at all. They’re part of what it makes you so strong. Which is one of the many things I like about you.”  
  
“Stop saying things like that.”

“No! Now you’ve said you love me you’re stuck with me and my compliments.”

“There are worse things,” he says, a smile pulling at his mouth. Annette rarely sees Felix smile, so this is a welcome sight.

“Are you really bringing me to the stables?” Annette asks, glancing around her.  
  
“It’s not very romantic, but you know I’m no good at that stuff. Besides, no one ever comes here.”

They don’t really stay in the stables, instead walking a little past it. Annette hops up onto a wall, and Felix leans beside her. They sit in silence for a minute, soaking in the other’s company. It’s strange, now that everything is out in the open. Felix is always so grumpy, and to see him smiling, acting gently around her… well, it makes Annette happy, that much is certain.

“Come home with me,” Felix says suddenly, turning to look at her.

“What?”  
  
“Come back to Fraldarius with me,” he clarifies, as if that was the part she didn’t understand. “I know I’m probably going to be a terrible… boyfriend, or whatever, but… if you came to Fraldarius, I’ll take care of you the best I can.”  
  
“As much as I would enjoy that, I… I can’t. I’m needed back at Dominic, and in Fhirdiad. And you’re going to be busy with becoming the Duke, so you don’t need me floating around the Duchy all the time.”  
  
“I _want_ you floating around the Duchy. But I know _you_ want to go to Fhirdiad, and I’m hardly going to stop you. But you’d better visit.”  
  
“I’ll do my best. And like I said before, you’d better write to me! I’ll make sure they’re never intercepted.”  
  
“Who do I write to about getting your hand, then? If you’re not coming straight to Fraldarius, then we’ll have to court properly.”  
  
“Felix, is it not a bit early to be thinking about things like that? Not that I’m saying no, but…”  
  
“We’re hardly getting married right away. But if you’d want to… no. Please accept my invitation of courtship, Annette.”  
  
“Of course,” she says, hardly able to keep the grin from her face. “Write to my father. If he says no, write to my mother. She’ll say yes. She’ll be glad I’ve found myself a well-to-do man.”  
  
“I’m hardly well to do,” Felix points out, turning around so he stands in front of her.  
  
“She doesn’t need to know that. You _sound_ well-to-do. Duke Felix Fraldarius.”  
  
“Duchess Annette-“  
  
“Don’t finish that sentence! You’ll curse us, or something.”  
  
“Am I going to fast?”  
  
“A little,” Annette admits. “But it’s okay. I know you… you’re saying all this because you care.”  
  
“Because I love you,” he reminds bluntly.

“Yes. That too.”

They stay there for a while, by the stables, watching as noon comes and goes. They share countless more kisses, talking about their future and their past and staying firmly seated in their present, together. Annette laughs at Felix, embarrassed at telling her about the times that he really should have realised that she was flirting with him, and how he still really didn’t get it after they kissed the second time.

She hears the monastery clock strike two o’clock, and Felix freezes up. Annette knows that this is the end, for now, but certainly not forever. She slides off the wall, standing beside her. From the far end of the stables, she can just about make out Sylvain and Ingrid, coming to get their horses for the trip home. Felix looks to them, and then to Annette, and smiles, one of those genuine smiles that are so rare and yet so special to her.

“This is it then.”  
  
“For now,” she reminds.

“For now.”

He wraps his arms around her in an almost bone crushing hug, pulling her as close to him as he can manage. She responds in kind, burying her face in the hood of his jacket. It’s soft, and smells like him, and she’s determined to commit this feeling to memory.

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispers into her ear, and all she can do is nod, too scared to say anything lest it become a sob. “I love you.”

“You don’t need to say it so much,” she manages to say with a laugh, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye. “It’s so unlike you.”

“Write to me as soon as you get to Dominic, okay?”

“I will.”

She leans in for one final kiss, short and sweet, and stays rooted to the ground as he joins Ingrid and Sylvain in getting his horse ready. He waves to her, as do the other two, as they trot out of the monastery gates, and she follows them, watching until they disappear over the horizon.

It won’t be long, she knows, but she’s already missing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> teehee!!!! a proper smooch, what you've all been waiting for. two more chapters of stuff to go! :(


	23. Verdant Rain Moon, 1187

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Then why are you over here, watching her from afar?”
> 
> “I… I’m not really deserving of someone like her. I know… I know my feelings, and I know hers, but something keeps me away.”
> 
> “Fear, probably,” Dimitri says sagely, and Felix snaps his gaze to the right to look at the man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly forgot that Friday had already happened this week!!! good for me. Hope you enjoy! :)

Annette finds herself wiping her eyes of tears all day. She can hardly help it- it’s not every day that your best friend gets married. She bursts into tears when she first sees Mercedes in her wedding dress, standing outside the great hall of House Gautier. She cries again following Mercedes down the aisle, her tears freely flowing down her cheeks when the bride hands her the bouquet. Annette can see Ingrid laughing on the other side of the hall, and tries to will the tears to stop falling.

She sits on Mercedes’s right at dinner, and makes idle chitchat with the other guests when they come up to speak to the bride and groom. She pointedly avoids looking for a shock of raven hair that she knows to be in attendance, not because she doesn’t want to see the bearer, but because she wants to see him so badly that she doesn’t know how she’ll react.

Eventually, she makes eye contact with him anyway, seated with some of the other Blue Lions- namely Ashe and Dorothea and Marianne. Like always, he holds her gaze for much longer than she really thinks is appropriate. She waves to him, and he manages a smile, his eyes softening around the edges. Mercedes picks up on her tiny movement, her eyes flashing knowingly between the two before settling on her new husband once again.

As dinner winds up, the guests make their way into the ballroom, lined with chairs, a small string ensemble set up in the corner. The drinks are flowing as the bride and groom take to the floor, Annette finding herself almost in tears once again as she sees Sylvain take Mercedes’s hand and spin her around. The smiles on their faces are infectious, and as Annette spots Felix across the room once again, she notices that even his usual scowl is replaced with something approaching a smile.

The slow piece of music that Mercedes picked out fades out, and is replaced with something faster, bouncier, and Mercedes is replaced as Sylvain’s dance partner with an Ingrid who looks less than enthusiastic to dance with her friend. Mercedes makes her way back to Annette, pulling her to the side, well aware of the people who are attempting to congratulate her on her nuptials.

“What’s up with you and Felix then?”

“Oh, Mercie, this is your day! I don’t want to talk about… stuff like that on your wedding day!”  
  
“Annie, I simply must know what transpired between the two of you. You’ve been so cagey about it ever since the end of the war! And you spoke of your affections so openly before that!”  
  
Annette sighs, weaving her fingers together, fidgeting with the hem of her bridesmaid’s dress. It’s not that there’s anything wrong, per se, but the whole thing is rather embarrassing, especially considering how excited Annette got about the whole potential relationship in the first place.

“Well,” she begins, choosing her words carefully, “I haven’t seen Felix since he left Garreg Mach. Um… that day, we, um, kissed, and he said that he loved me. And! He was very… how do I put this… forward about his wishes.”  
  
“Oh my,” Mercedes says, stifling a giggle.

“Not like that! Goddess, I could have coped with that, but he was talking about me becoming the Duchess, and while…”  
  
“While you like the idea, you weren’t ready for it at the time.”  
  
“Exactly,” Annette sighs. “But Mercie, I love him so much. We’ve been writing letters to each other all this year, and his always arrive so fast to Fhirdiad so I think he’s even paying someone to get them there even faster. And he always says such nice things- you wouldn’t believe what he writes, knowing Felix the way you do. But he’s been busy with the Duchy, and I’ve been busy with the School of Sorcery, so we haven’t been able to see each other. Until now, that is…”  
  
“Are you going to speak to him, then?” Mercedes asks, encouragement clear in her suggestion. “It would be a shame not to.”  
  
“I know, I know.”

Across the room, a certain swordsman keeps his eyes firmly trained on Annette, as she converses with Mercedes, holding her head in her hands and waving them about in equal measures. The smile on his face is really only noticeable to his closest friends, hence when he feels the warm and heavy hand of the king on his shoulder he already knows what conversation is about to spark.

“You look happy.”  
  
“Do you know much of that?”

“Recently I do, more and more. I think you could probably know more of it too, if you’d just speak to Annette. I’ve heard of what she means to you."

“The world,” Felix sighs. “And more.”

“Then why are you over here, watching her from afar?”  
  
“I… I’m not really deserving of someone like her. I know… I know my feelings, and I know hers, but something keeps me away.”  
  
“Fear, probably,” Dimitri says sagely, and Felix snaps his gaze to the right to look at the man.   
  
“You’re ridiculous, you know that? What do you know about matters of the heart?”  
  
“Perhaps more than you might think.” Felix attempts to follow Dimitri’s gaze, to see if there’s someone in particular that he’s thinking of, but his sights land on no one in particular. “Ask her to dance, if nothing else. I think the girl deserves that much from you, if you’re too cowardly to give her anything else.”  
  
Dimitri is goading him, Felix is aware. It’s a trick, because Sylvain and Ingrid can’t keep their mouths shut and so Dimitri obviously knows about Felix’s long held intentions to marry Annette. But even still, Felix’s body is smarter than his brain, and he finds himself leaving the king, weaving his way through dancing couples to stand in front of his love.

“Annette,” he says as way of announcing himself, and he takes great pride in how her face flushes at the sound of his voice. “May I have the next dance?” He offers her his hand, and before he’s even finished speaking, her hand is in his own and he’s pulling her to her feet.

“Of course. You don’t need to ask.”

He’s in half a mind to kiss her right there, but that wouldn’t go down well with anyone, except perhaps Mercedes and Sylvain. Instead, they stand, hand in hand, as the music dies down- another lively polka- and a slower piece begins. Felix’s gaze whips over to the ensemble- of course, there is Sylvain, putting in a last-minute request. Annette giggles by his side.

“Come on,” she says, dragging Felix into the middle of the floor. “Remember the last time we danced together?” She recalls, resting her hands just behind his neck. He responds automatically, hands on her waist, pulling her in close.

“That was a long time ago.”  
  
They step in time to the music, more focussed on watching each other than anything else. Annette quickly finds herself lost in Felix’s amber eyes, resisting the urge to stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss to his lips. He always has looked particularly kissable, but today is even better (worse?) than usual, due mostly in part to his attire- all dressed up for the special occasion.

“I’ve missed you a lot,” he confesses quietly, just loud enough for her to hear. “I wish we had been able to see each other before now.”  
  
“If I had known it would have been twelve moons between our last meeting and this one, I probably would have come with you to Fraldarius,” Annette confesses, and even without looking, she guess what Felix’s expression is when he sighs.

“Don’t just say things like that. You’ll give me a heart attack.”  
  
“Sorry,” she laughs. “But I do mean it. It’s been really difficult not being able to see you. I know there was good reason for it, because we were both busy, but…”  
  
“If I were to do this year over, I wouldn’t become Duke. I’d come to live in Fhirdiad with you.”  
  
“Nonsense,” Annette says, moving her head back a little to glare up at him. “I know you tell everyone else that you find the Duchy tiresome, but don’t forget that you told _me_ that you do quite enjoy your work.”

“How do you remember everything I say?” He grumbles into her hair.

“Because I like reading your letters. You’re… very different in them. A different side to Felix Fraldarius that I like to think is reserved for me.”  
  
“It is,” he states plainly. “I would hardly tell you I loved you and then write you letters about the tax forms I’m filling out. I tell you… you know. Important things.”  
  
“Well I’m glad you do. It means a lot to me, that you consistently write to me. And do not dare tease me about the last time!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Felix laughs, his expression betraying the fact that he was about to tease her once again.

“A rare laugh,” Annette muses.

“Now _you’re_ teasing me.”

“It’s true though! You rarely laugh- I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you laugh.”  
  
“I just don’t find things funny,” he shrugs.

“But you laugh at me,” Annette points out.

“Because you’re funny.” He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m not trying to be!”

Felix moves a hand from her waist to her hair, ruffling it gently while she pouts. She smacks his hand away, and he laughs again, the sound so unusual but also so pleasing to Annette’s ears.

“Do… do you have to rush off back home?” She asks nervously, too scared to meet his gaze, which is once again locked firmly on her.

“After the wedding? No. I can’t stay too long, but… if you’re staying…”  
  
“I have to be back in Fhirdiad at the start of next week, but Mercie and Sylvain have invited me to stay here until then.”

“Then…”  
  
“Then I think we should spend time together. You know, in case it’s another year before we see each other again.”  
  
“I refuse to let it happen. I’ll come to Fhirdiad every week if I need to.”  
  
“You don’t need to! That’s ridiculous, Felix.”  
  
“Not if it’s for you.”  
  
“It’s still ridiculous even if it’s for me. Though I do appreciate your enthusiasm. I too would much rather that we saw a lot more of each other. It’s so strange, going from seeing each other every day to a year of… nothing.”

“I know. It’s been terrible not seeing you every day,” Felix admits quietly. “How is the School of Sorcery doing?”

“Really great. We’ve welcomed new students, and new teachers, and as far as I’m aware, it’s going really great for them.”  
  
“I thought you were teaching? You never mentioned that you weren’t.”  
  
“I… I did want to. But I found myself really enjoying the organisation side of things! So I talked with my mother, and I’m staying behind the scenes and she’s doing some teaching stuff. I know it sounds terribly boring, but it’s fun! For me, anyway.”

“But I thought that was what you wanted to do? You always talked about it.”  
  
“When I was a child, I wanted to be a cat breeder. And clearly that didn’t work out for me, so… it’s good, Felix. I like helping out my mother, and being flexible to do other stuff when I feel like it.”  
  
“Like… writing new songs?” Felix asks hopefully.

“You know, there was a reason that I didn’t mention songs in any of my letters,” Annette grumbles. “But yes, I have written a few new ones.”  
  
“You’ll have to let me hear sometime.”  
  
“That can probably be arranged.”

The music slowly comes to an end, and as is polite, Felix and Annette separate, and bow to each other. There is barely a moment before Felix takes Annette’s hand again, nodding in the direction of outside. She’s as quick to take it, throwing a glance over her shoulder at Mercedes as Felix leads her away.

“I spent a lot of time here a lot as a child. I know a good spot in the garden.”

It’s probably a bit rude to leave someone else’s wedding to go outside with your boyfriend, but Annette finds herself unable to really care, as she knows that both Mercedes and Sylvain have been rooting for the two of them for a long time. The gardens of House Gautier are nice, she’s able to observe as Felix leads her through pathways of deciduous shrubbery and hardy flowers.

The spot he brings her to is tucked out of the way, behind a rather large topiary shaped like a horse. It looks stupid, Annette thinks, but there’s a nice fountain on their other side that she can look at instead. Or she can look at Felix, which is the preferable option.

“I still love you,” he says, his tone and expression more sincere than Annette has ever seen on him. “I don’t know if I said that in my letters, and if I did, I certainly didn’t say it enough.”

“I still love you too,” Annette says with a smile that makes her cheeks hurt.

“It’s been too long, Annette. I… I don’t think that I can go another day without you by my side. I’m serious.”  
  
“They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. And we have been separated for a while now. And we were barely even together before that!”  
  
“I really wish I had managed to figure out my feelings before the end of the war. Saints, Annette, I feel like I owe you months, years.” Felix runs a hand through his hair in an attempt to relieve some of his stress, and Annette catches it when it falls, holding his hand in between both of her own.

“You owe me absolutely nothing, Felix. I have your love, and that’s more than enough for me.”

She steps close to him once more, now holding both of his hands and looking up at him with adoration clear in her eyes. With a smirk, Felix leans down to close the gap between them, kissing her for the first time in a year. She lets go of his hands to wrap her arms around his neck like when they were dancing, and he responds in kind, one hand on the small of her back, the other tilting her chin up to meet his mouth.

It’s a little too passionate for Felix’s liking, out here where anyone else could potentially see them, but Annette’s enthusiasm for him is endearing, and he finds himself smiling as she pushes herself ever closer to him, her hands beginning to weave their way into his hair. He sighs a little at her touch, and briefly, she breaks off the kiss to look at him, eyebrows raised in shock. She smirks to herself, a look that he’s never seen on her before, as if she’s filing that away for later.

He’s laughing to himself even as she kisses him again, like she always does, respectful of his space but insistent in her affections. These kisses are short, sweet, and the feeling leaves a tingling sensation on his lips that he’s not sure of the cause- is it bruising, or is it her lip gloss? He doesn’t care for the answer, because the feeling of kissing her is the sweetest in the world.

Eventually though, she pulls away for good, merely looking at him with that lovestruck look in her eyes. Her smile is infectious, and somehow grows even wider when she sees the grin on his face- the only one that she’s ever seen. His smile is gorgeous, and in that moment, Annette makes her mind up.

“If you’ll have me, I would like to make arrangements to come to Fraldarius,” she says, filled with determination that this is the right decision for her. Felix smiles, leaning down to resting his forehead against hers.  
  
“If I’ll have you?” Felix laughs. “Of course I’ll have you. But… only if you’ll have me. Forever.”  
  
Annette’s brow wrinkles as she tries to comprehend his words, which are only made clear by his actions. In the middle of House Gautier’s gardens, at the reception of his best friend’s wedding, Felix Hugo Fraldarius drops down to one knee. From his pocket, he pulls out a ring- his mother’s engagement ring, silver with green stones.

“Annette Fantine Dominic, will you please marry me?”  
  
“Yes!”

Felix shakily gets to his feet when Annette pulls him up. She kisses him again, and again, and again, until he has to push her off him so that she can take her gloves off and he can slide the ring onto her finger. It’s a little big on her slender hands, but Annette declares loudly that it’s perfect anyway.

It’s a quiet engagement, both of them too respectful to announce what transpired in the middle of Mercedes and Sylvain’s special moment. It’s a private affair, though anyone with eyes knows of their amorous meeting when they return to the reception an hour later, Felix’s hair around his shoulders and Annette’s lip gloss smeared across both of their faces. No one dares comment, for the wrath of the newest Duke Fraldarius is already known across Fódlan.

But Mercedes smiles that knowing smile regardless, pulling Annette into a hug that almost breaks her bones. Ingrid sidles up to Felix and pats him on the back, holding out her hand for Sylvain to pass her a few coins that Felix doesn’t miss. He rolls his eyes- it would be just like those two to be competing over something, but he never thought that his love life would be the thing that made Sylvain actually lose money. He doesn’t dare wonder if Sylvain was over or under ambitious.

In the small hours of the morning, everyone leaves the party, thoroughly exhausted from a whole day of celebrations. At the door to Annette’s guest room, Felix pauses, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He glances down the corridor to where he usually sleeps when visiting Sylvain, and back to Annette.

“I really don’t want to sleep next to Sylvain and Mercedes tonight,” he says, and Annette rolls her eyes, grabbing his hand.

“You don’t need to ask, Felix.”  
  
“That’s not what I-“  
  
“Oh. Um.”  
  
“I mean, I’m not going to say no, but I just need you to know that I wasn’t hinting that I wanted to come in and uh… stay the night or anything.”  
  
“Get in here, or I’ll call you a villain again.”  
  
“Are you going to sing for me?”  
  
“Only if you behave. And don’t have cold feet!”  
  
“No promises,” Felix laughs, eyes darting around for any potential witnesses before following his betrothed into her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's very important to know that these two just cuddled otherwise a joke I make in the next (last!) chapter doesn't make sense :) do they know what sex is? barely


	24. Garland Moon, 1188

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m just excited! I’m getting married, Mercie!”
> 
> “Yes, yes, I’m aware. On my wedding day, I was almost late!”
> 
> “That was because you were marrying Sylvain, and he has very different ideas about what you should and shouldn’t be doing immediately before you get married than I do."

Mercedes pulls the strings on Annette’s corset tight, tying off the ribbon in a big bow. The dress she wears currently is heavy, about ten times the width of her waist, and brushes the floor, meaning she has to lift the skirts whenever she wants to move. But despite the fact that the dress is horribly uncomfortable to wear, it’s still Annette’s favourite dress she’s ever worn.

Mercedes sits her down, careful to avoid the skirts wrinkling. Her hair is already styled for the day, but Mercie is clever with pins, ad tucks any stray strands away, adding a tiara for sparkle against the mass of ginger hair pulled into an elegant bun. She clips on a necklace too, and then stands back to admire her handiwork.

“Annie, you look…”

Her words trail off into nothingness as she stares at her friend, tears pricking the backs of her eyes. Annette gets up to look at her reflection in the mirror, and barely recognises herself, done up to this degree. She likes nice dresses and makeup and playing with her hair, but this is on another level.

“Felix is going to be speechless,” Mercedes giggles.

“Well, there’s still another two hours before that happens,” Annette says, wringing her hands together.

“Well, that’s your entirely fault for getting ready so early.”  
  
“I’m just excited! I’m getting _married_ , Mercie!”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware. On my wedding day, I was almost late!”  
  
“That was because you were marrying Sylvain, and he has very different ideas about what you should and shouldn’t be doing immediately before you get married than I do,” Annette grumbles, to which Mercedes can only laugh.

“Yes, well, you and Felix should probably remain apart then. You know, just in case.”  
  
“Mercie! I would never! Besides, I wouldn’t let this dress get dirty. I’m going to sit right here until the wedding ceremony, and not move at all.”

“Perhaps that’s a good plan. You may hope that Felix doesn’t feel the need to visit you. However, I now have to get ready myself. I’m sure Sylvain is looking for me.”  
  
“He’s always looking for you,” Annette teases, sticking her tongue out at her friend.  
  
“Oh, hush you. I feel sorry for Felix when he finally lets you get your hands on him- you are insatiable!”

“Okay I’m done now! I swear. I’ll see you in two hours then,” Annette says, waving as Mercedes slides out of the room, shaking her head with a tiny smile on her face as she goes.

Annette isn’t quite sure what to do with herself now. Her enthusiasm at making sure everything was done on time for her wedding has left her with blank spots in her schedule before, that usually she’s filled with magic training, forcing her body through the rigours of expanding her spell repertoire just for fun. Today though, there’s no way she can go near the training grounds, lest her dress get ruined.

Felix is probably there though, she muses, because he wouldn’t let an important event such as his wedding get in the way of his training schedule. Her heart flutters at remembering the wedding once more- it’s only a matter of hours before they’re bound together forever, and she officially receives the title of duchess (and plenty of questions from far-flung members of the Fraldarius family about when they should be expecting an heir).

Annette hadn’t even known that there _were_ more Fraldarius members until they wrote the list of people to invite to the wedding. The Blue Lions were first, including the Professor, Flayn and Seteth, who made their permanent residence in Garreg Mach. Annette’s mother and father were next, along with her uncle and aunt and the few cousins that she remained in contact with. Annette felt sorry for Felix for not having any relations to invite until he pulled out an address book and started going through that.

First was his aunt on his mother’s side, who he apparently remained in polite contact with for a number of years. The woman had never married, and Felix said she was the only relative he had that he didn’t hate. Then he moved to the other side of the family tree- his father’s brother who left home to be a knight at a young age, his wife, and their three children. A great aunt from somewhere along the line that Annette doesn’t remember. A cousin who Felix doesn’t know who her parents are, but remembers not hating.

The Fraldarius family name has been diluted over the years, but they’re still out there. This comes as a surprise to Annette, but Felix, blasé as ever, just shrugs. They compile their final list together, and Annette writes all the invitations in her neatest handwriting while Felix does duke stuff (she’s not sure she’ll ever know exactly what he does because she tries to keep out of as much official business as possible for the time being).

She’s been living here at House Fraldarius for seven months, and while getting to spend all that time with her betrothed has been lovely, she hasn’t really been sure what to do with herself. Annette finds herself falling in and out of various routines as the months pass. Felix works most of the day on aforementioned duke stuff, and joins her after dinner. Often he looks exhausted, something she’s not used to seeing on his face, and after dinner, they retire to the sitting room and simply enjoy each other’s company.

Annette has her own room, a little way along the corridor from the Duke’s room. Felix refuses to sleep there, Annette has noticed, staying instead in his childhood room at the other end of the house. When news of her arrival at House Fraldarius made its way to the family’s ears, Annette received many letters from those far flung family members who at the time she didn’t know, warning her not to stray into the Duke’s bed at night, and really, she shouldn’t be living there at all if they were unwed.

These letters had much more of an effect on Felix than they did on her, and he began to clam up any time they were in any way affectionate with each other. In time, he relaxed, letting her into his room at night, if only to cuddle for a while before they fell asleep. It was quite cute, Annette remembers with a smile, how she was exposed to more and more facets of his personality after moving in with him.

A knock on her bedroom door pulls her out of her memories and back to the present. She shuffles towards the door, trying her best not to trip on her skirts. Behind the door is her uncle, and so she opens the door to him, letting him inside. She sits once more on the stool in front of her vanity, while he hovers near the door.

“Annette, you look radiant. I am so happy to see one of our own marrying into one of the most powerful families in Faerghus. This sets us up nicely for a few generations, until the dark hair gene takes over,” he jests, to which Annette merely rolls her eyes. “And I am glad that you were able to marry for love, and not for politics.”  
  
“Thank you, Uncle.”  
  
“Will Gustave be walking you down the aisle?” He asks, looking intently at her.

“No. He’s here, but he’ll be sitting with my mother in the congregation. Dimitri is walking me instead. Felix… thought it would be funny, since he’s the king, and it’s like he’s passing me from Dominic to Fraldarius, but I just wanted one of my friends to walk with me.”

“That’s lovely, Annette. Your aunt and I won’t be able to stay for long after the ceremony, unfortunately. So in case I miss you then, I wanted to give you a wedding present. This isn’t your official present, per se. This is from me to you.”  
  
From inside his jacket, Charles Dominic pulls out a bundle of envelopes, all opened, all addressed to Annette. They are bound together with red string, and he unceremoniously drops them into Annette’s outstretched hands,

“It was very selfish of me to withhold these from you for so long- they are yours. During the war, I realise I was on the wrong side for a large portion of the fight. I cannot make up for those actions quickly, but I hope that this will help improve your opinion of me, even just a little.”  
  
Annette pulls the first letter out of the envelope, dated to 12th Garland Moon, 1181. Her eyes scan the letter barely taking in any of the words, enchanted by the handwriting that has come to be so familiar to her in the last two years. She skips to the end of the letter, her eyes falling upon that signature- his full name sweeping across the bottom of the page.

“Thank you,” she manages to mumble to her uncle, not even looking up as he leaves the room.

She pulls the next letter from its envelope, reading its contents and moving onto the next one. There are a few from Ingrid, one from Ashe and one from Sylvain, but most of the letters in the bundle are from Felix, who seems to have written to her constantly over the five years they were apart. It feels so long ago now, but the memories of this time come flooding back to her- how she was stuck in her bedroom back home, with no correspondence with anyone from the outside world. How her family were the only ones that (seemingly) bothered to talk to her, how desperate she was to get out.

From a few happy birthday messages, to the marriage proposal that she turned down, to the anniversary of their first meeting, Felix wrote many letters. She laughs when she mentions using her as a diary, signing the letter _yours apologetically_. It was such a Felix thing to do. That’s the last letter- he talks about her ignoring him, and how it would hurt him in a way he can’t explain.

They read like love letters, to those who don’t know otherwise. And maybe they were, sort of, a love that hadn’t quite yet matured into the romantic love that they share now. Annette stuffs the letters back into their envelopes, lifts the string, and hoists her skirts up. She runs as fast as her legs will take her, along the corridor, past the Duke’s room, past the stairs that lead downstairs to the entrance hall, continuing along at the same pace until she reaches Felix’s room.

She hammers on the door, catching her breath, almost tripping over herself when the door opens. But Felix is there to catch her, as he always tries to be, and is quick enough to reach out and pull her in. Sylvain and Ingrid are there too, Annette notices with acute embarrassment, but her heart is beating too fast in her chest for her to really care.

“Annette, you’re not supposed to be here,” he whispers. “Is something the matter?”  
  
“Yes. No? My uncle gave me these.”  
  
She passes the bundle of letters to him, and his eyes widen. Before he can think to react, Sylvain snorts, and drags Ingrid out of the room. Felix looks from Annette to the letters and back again, before sitting down on the edge of his bed.

“I don’t want to read them,” he says eventually. “I know what I said in these letters, and it’s really embarrassing to think of reading them again.”

“I’m not asking you to. I never thought I would see them, ever. Some of the things you’ve said here are… really lovely. This one is my favourite, though, from the fourth of the Red Wolf Moon, 1183. Let’s see…” she clears her throat, and begins reading in her best impersonation of Felix.

“Do you remember on that last day at Garreg Mach? When we were the only two in the training grounds, and you kissed me? Sometimes I think about that, even if I try not to. Why did you do that? I haven’t told anyone about that. It was very strange. No one else has ever kissed me. I don’t know why I dwell on it so much. Anyway, that’s not important.”

“Oh, that’s really embarrassing. I had forgotten about that one.”

“And you said you didn’t realise you were in love with me until the end of the war! This was three _years_ before that! Oh, Felix… you really are full of surprises.”  
  
“I was still a child then,” Felix excuses, turning his head away from her.  
  
“You were twenty.”

“Alright, okay. No need to drive the point home. I love you now, and that’s really what matters. We’re getting married in twenty minutes, so maybe you should go finish preparations for that. Go find Dimitri.”

“I will see you at the altar then,” Annette says, swooping in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose that leaves him very confused.

“I love you,” he whispers, mostly to himself, after she’s left the room, letters in hand.

Goddess, it was stupid how much he said in those letters that could have exposed some sort of weakness to House Fraldarius if they had fallen into the wrong hands. She could have been kidnapped, held for ransom from his house, never mind her own. He was stupid, back then, but more stupid to not realise that he could’ve been happy with Annette for a lot longer than he has been.

He could have been _happy_ for a lot longer than he has been.

As he checks his hair one last time, Felix finds himself grinning to himself, unable to keep the smile off his face. As a child, he hadn’t much fancied the idea of getting married, and as a teenager, those feelings were multiplied tenfold. But now, mid-twenties, he finds himself excited to walk down the stairs and marry Annette and invite something good into his family for the first time in over ten years.

The decision to have the wedding in House Fraldarius itself was Annette’s idea, and now he realises that it was a quite excellent idea. There is no travelling to and from churches, with Mercedes volunteering herself as officiant. At the end of the night, he can just head up to bed, with Annette in tow, and they can sleep at a decent time.

Felix makes his way downstairs, glancing at the clock in the entrance hall as he does- ten minutes to twelve. He knows there is absolutely no way that Annette will be anything but precisely on time, so he makes his way into the great hall, taking a seat in the front row on the right. Sylvain is quick to join him, with Ingrid taking her time to saunter to the front (Felix will never tell her, but he thinks it’s very unfair that she looks better in her suit than he does).

“Nervous?” Sylvain asks, glancing in his friend’s direction.

“No.”  
  
“Nervous about after? You are aware that you have to consummate your marriage tonight, right, Felix? I can give you some tips if you’d like,” he prods, and Felix rolls his eyes.

“I think I’ll manage just fine. Now stop talking about this, Annette’s parents are just over there.”  
  
“Stop talking about this because I don’t want to hear about either of your sex lives,” Ingrid chips in.   
  
“What about yours, Ingrid? Is it flourishing?” Sylvain asks, elbowing her in the side.

“Shut up, asshole. You are honestly the most inappropriate person I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting. I feel sorry for Mercedes.”  
  
“Apparently she feels sorry for Felix. Annette can’t wait to get her hands on that famously flat Fraldarius ass,” Sylain says, and Ingrid can’t help but laugh at that, before trying her best to straighten her expression.

“You’re fired,” Felix says simply. “Go sit with Ashe or someone. I swear, I cannot look at you for one more minute.”  
  
“Fine, I’ll go be Annette’s bridesmaid- I’m sure she’ll appreciate me more than you.”

Sylvain disappears, and Felix isn’t sure what’s worse, having him stand beside him through the whole ceremony, or standing across from him. Ingrid slides up a seat instead, and takes Felix’s hand, which he didn’t realise was shaking from nerves until it’s held within the stillness of Ingrid’s hands.

“He’s just trying to calm you down. I know he’s doing it in the worst way imaginable, but he’s trying. Either you go and get him back, or he walks in front of Annette.”  
  
“Let him embarrass himself,” Felix says.

“You know that man has no shame,” Ingrid warns, but she doesn’t miss the smile that pulls at the corners of Felix’s mouth.

It’s not long before Mercedes gets up at the front of the church, and the music begins to play- a quiet piano melody that Felix recognises but can’t immediately place. As predicted, Sylvain walks down the aisle first, a bouquet in his hands that was most definitely stolen out of a vase somewhere. What is more entertaining is Mercedes’s reaction- she turns away from the proceedings, covering her mouth in her hands as her husband approaches.

Felix finds himself waiting with bated breath for the next arrival- Annette on the arm of Dimitri. He’s already seen her dress, so that’s not going to be a surprise, but when she walks in, he feels all the air leave his lungs anyway. Annette looks like the sun, her grin lighting up the whole room as she approaches him, practically bouncing on her toes when she reaches the front.

Felix is in a state of euphoria for the whole ceremony, only remembering to say his lines when Ingrid prompts him with an elbow to the ribs. Mercedes laughs, as do their gathered family and friends, and Annette still looks like the sun, shining her light all over his life. When Mercedes pronounces them officially married in the eyes of both Fódlan and the Goddess, Felix scoops her up into his arms, spinning her around as she kisses him.

There is polite applause from most of the congregation, and a loud cheer from Sylvain and Dorothea, which most people have the good grace to laugh at. Felix sets Annette down again, and takes her hand, all but running out of the room while Annette laughs at his side. They don’t stop running until they’re somewhere outside, halfway into the middle of the gardens, Annette’s concerns about getting her dress dirty long gone.

“I am in love with you,” he confirms.

“I am glad to hear that, considering we just got married,” Annette laughs.

“No, I really mean it. I love you, so much, and I am so glad that you are my wife.”

“I love you too. But you know that, considering we just got married.”

“Stop making fun of me,” Felix huffs. “We have to sit through lunch and dinner now with literally everyone we’ve ever met, when all I want to do is kick them out and go about my day as normal.”  
  
“Why am I not surprised that anti-social Felix doesn’t want to join in with the fun?” She says, standing on her tiptoes to press a very fast kiss to his lips. “Come on, back inside. We have hours of entertaining people to get through, and the faster it’s done, the quicker we can reasonably expect to leave.”  
  
“I like the sound of leaving,” Felix mumbles in her ear, pulling her in close to embrace her.   
  
“Stop it, you. I’ve already had all this from Mercedes this morning, setting up traps for me to walk into.”

“Fine. We go back inside, entertain, be very polite and full of niceties, eat dinner, and then we go to bed. Okay?”  
  
“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“I love you.”  
  
Annette rolls her eyes.

“I love you too.”

* * *

_Duke Felix and Duchess Annette Fraldarius looked after the household until they were both in their twilight years. After their deaths, a series of letters between the two were found, from their time as friends, during their courtship, and on the rare occasions after their marriage that they were separated. These letters were published posthumously, and to this day, remain well respected as excellent examples of love letters from the time period._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, and thank you if you've got this far!


End file.
